#i should be eating grass instead of feeling anxious about what could go wrong at work today

[veronicaphoenix]

having to go to work after spending 3 days in the mountains makes me realize i should've stayed with the cows and goats and leave this systematic life behind for once and for all

[after-witch]

Title: A Gift [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Title: A Gift [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: Your demon lord captor presents you with an unusual and unexpected gift.

Word Count: 2200ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped,  blood/violence

Your captor seems unusually on edge--he has been since this morning, when he soundlessly bid the group to pack up camp and began trekking further into the forest much swifter than usual. You don't know why. He wouldn't tell you, even if you dared to ask. So you didn't ask, and merely helped Rin roll up your supplies in a pack, ignoring the way the growing tension in the air made your skin prickle.

You don't know much of anything lately, except the feeling of the ground under your feet as you relentlessly walk from place to place, bound to go where he goes. Being carried on the strange demon beast is no longer a terrifying prospect but a welcome reprieve from the endless marching. You’d walked more in the past months than you ever had in your entire life; you’d lived in a small village, never roaming very far out of fear of animals and bandits and other unknown dangers. 

One of those dangers, as it turned out, had been the demon lord Sesshoumaru.

You don't know why you were taken. You don't know why he refuses to let you leave, why he demanded that you join his group, his company, whatever it can be called.  

You do know that you fight in what little ways that you can. Which, you admit, aren't many. You pack up deliberately slow, hoping to earn the rare annoyed look that breaks his normally impassive visage. You used to deliberately slow down when you knew he was in a hurry, dragging your legs or feigning a limp. Though once he caught on to your trick, he'd quietly suggested that he simply carry you from then on, and you'd dropped the act.

There is one concession you will never make, no matter what he says. Your biggest weapon against him. You refuse to call him my lord, as he commanded. As Jaken routinely harps on about. As even Rin, in a light, easy way, wonders why you won't. (But there is so much the child doesn't know, and doesn't understand, about your situation.)

Today, you are almost tempted to address him--no lord, of course--to ask if something is wrong. The tension is eating at you, and if the nervous glances of Jaken are anything to go by, you're not the only one who notices it. Perhaps there's something or someone that you can't see, another demon, detectable only by scent. Perhaps he's thinking about his brother, a subject you've only learned about in snatches of conversation, though you learned enough to know that you should never bring him up.

You're tempted to ask, but you don't. Instead you try to take in the scenery around you, walking quietly and pretending for a moment that you're alone. You're walking in the middle of the group, as you usually do; Sesshoumaru ahead of you, Jaken, Rin and the beast behind. This is probably to discourage you from running--not that you've tried to run in a long time. Getting recaptured, losing the thrill of hope in your heart when you think you just might make it this time, is incredibly tiring.

Your feet are often tired, too, but you truthfully you have enjoyed seeing more of the world, more than you would have ever seen near your village. If only it was under different circumstances. You've learned over the months that happiness needs to be taken wherever it can, or else you would simply give in to despair. 

A flower species you've never seen, a stunning ray of sunshine through the leaves of the trees, a glimpse of an animal not native to your village. You catalog these things in your mind and think about them at night, counting off the times your heart has been made lighter by them.

So you look around in the hopes of adding new memories to your catalog. Only there isn't much new to add. If anything, you've seen all of these things before. But maybe that's not such a bad thing. Your gaze lingers on a particular bush dotted with bright pink flowers, just like the ones you used to pick, and you half-close your eyes, pretending that you're taking a break from former daily errands; your mother often scolded you when you returned home with a basket full of flowers, but she never hesitated to tie them into your hair or lay them on her  table as delicately as a treasure.

The daydream is made easier by the fact that these space is full of old things, old things you once knew. Even that patch of trees is remarkably similar to the ones you knew all your life, trees where you would sometimes be sent to collect bark; and that large rock, it even has the same markings, the same drawings carved in by children in some older generation. A small pond up ahead has the same pebble path, painstakingly laid by the elders for easy fishing grounds.

Oh.

Your legs feel heavy as lead and you stop, suddenly. Jaken yells something behind you about your sudden halt, but you can't make out the exact words. They don't matter, anyway.

That's why he's so on edge. That's why you've been so on edge.

The old things are not just familiar: they're exact. You're near your old village. You know these plants, these trees, the grass beneath your feet. No wonder he's tense, no wonder he's been keeping a breakneck pace since the morning. He wants to get away from this place--does he think you'll try to run back? You're not that stupid, he could kill your entire village in moments if he wanted to. And he might, if you tried to seek shelter there.

The realization weighs you down, even as Rin runs up to you and lightly takes your hand. She tugs you along, and you're gently jerked from your heavy realization until your legs continue to move, barely from their own free will. You glance forward and see that Sesshoumaru is watching, his head tilted back--to see what you would do, you think.

Rin lets go of your hand and runs on ahead, practically skipping past Sesshoumaru in a sudden sprint of childish speed, gaily ignoring Jaken's squawk of protest. Jaken knows better than to break the implied status quo--keep you in the middle--so he grumbles and maintains his slower pace.

But Rin doesn't get all that far ahead of Sesshoumaru before she, too, stops in her tracks.

"Look," she says, lifting her arm and pointing down past the trees, towards what you know will be a view of your village.

You resist the urge to sprint after her, to bridge the gap between you and catch a hill's-eye view of your village that you used to take in almost daily during your errands. You force your feet to remain steady, one-two, one-two--when Sesshoumaru suddenly pivots, and turns towards an opposite path, away from the village and away from the view.

"This way," he says.

"But. Lord Sesshoumaru--" Rin doesn't get a chance to finish when Sesshoumaru begins walking. She merely looks back towards the village with an odd expression, before running to catch up with him.

But you weren't going to be turned away so easily. You deserved a look at your village, didn't you? Just a glance at your former home? He stole your freedom, your life, he couldn't possibly begrudge you a look. 

So you keep your feet walking, quiet and nonchalant, intent on getting as far as the clearing where you know you'll be able to see the familiar buildings, the public square where festivals were held,  your own home, small and unassuming as it is. Glancing at them again might give you an image to hold onto, something you can think about before bed.

"Come on!" Jaken has pressed on ahead of you, and he's waving at you with the horrid staff he always carries. "Don't be so slow!" He swoops his staff towards Rin and Sesshoumaru, who is now standing still, staring at you. It's unusual. The entire day has been unusual. He doesn't normally bother with something as mundane as waiting--it's up to you, to Rin, to Jaken, to follow and catch up if need be. But he's waiting for you. As if he does begrudge you so much as a look.

"I just--" you start to say, inhaling a deep breath to gather your nerves.

It's then, with this deep breath, that you smell the smoke. It's then that you look up and see it, grey and thick, wafting above the trees, a detail you'd missed in your anxious haste to catch a even glimpse of your former home.

It's then that you push past Jaken, ignoring his protest, and reach the spot where Rin had stopped in her tracks.

Your village--what is left of it--is on fire. Hot, smoking buildings, crumbling and destroyed. You can see dark, red pools of blood--bodies. It was a fresh attack.

In an instant, you take off, barreling down familiar paths that you still know like the back of your hand. You hear your captor say your name, you hear the sound of twigs breaking as he moves to follow you, but you can think of nothing but your home, your family, and what might be left of them. 

You reach the village in precious little time, and it feels like walking into a nightmare. Hot air seems to simmer around you from the flames lingering inside buildings, the granary, even the market. The stench of death--blood and fire--makes you gag, and you cover your mouth with your hands. An unidentifiable body, burnt beyond humanity, is curled up against what used to be a home.

The sight propels you through the ruined streets, stepping over blood and remnants of belongings and bodies, until you reach your family’s home. Or what remains. The doorway is open, missing its door, and you cautiously peer inside the humble home that used to be all you knew.

You drop to your knees at the sight of your parents and your little brother, dead on the ground. You crawl towards them and your knees become wet with their blood. You reach out and feel the soft cheek of your mother, a cheek you'd kissed so many times as a child. It's still warm. 

You feel the weighty presence of Sesshoumaru behind you and turn around, getting shakily off your knees. He’s standing in the doorway, watching you.

You feel dizzy. You feel sick. From the smoke, from the sights, from the realization that your entire family--your entire world--has been lost.

It's then that you remember his sword. That you remember the story Rin gleefully told you around the fire, about how he'd saved her from death with it. About what it could do, if it was wielded.

You hesitantly step towards him, mind reeling. "They're dead,” you say, as if he can't tell from their lifeless, bloody bodies. "Can you... are they still..." Your voice is hoarse and hurting.

His face is impassive, but he doesn't tell you to leave. He continues to stand in the doorway, staring. You look at him, and then at his sword.

Without hesitation, you get back down on your knees and bow low, ignoring the smell of blood beneath you.

"Please," you say. "Please, my lord Sesshoumaru. Can you save them?"

You don't look up--you can't, out of fear that he'll reject you, your former pride no longer a concern with your families lifeless bodies within arm's reach--but you hear a short, quiet intake of breath in response. You keep yourself still, thoughts racing with memories and empty, fervent prayers without words.

"Go." His voice is low and commanding. "Jaken and Rin are waiting in the clearing."

Your legs seem to obey his command without question, pushing you off the floor and out of your ruined home as you make your way back through the village. You pick up your pace, wanting to wipe away the memory of seeing villagers you knew--villagers who carried you on their backs when you were a child, children you played with, the market women who gave you extra treats--dead on the ground. You don't stop running until you see Rin and Jaken up ahead, Rin looking at you with concern and Jaken--well, you already know you'll hear about your transgression for miles and miles.

When you reach the top of the hill, you spin around and stare at the far-away, ruined building that was your home.

Ages seem to pass before you suddenly see Sesshoumaru emerge from the opened doorway. He walks with no hesitation away from the village, not even glancing at the bodies or ruined buildings around him. He'll be here soon enough. But... was it too late? Did he save them? Did he leave them where they lay? You can feel your family's blood drying on your clothes.

And then, in the ruined doorway--your mother, your father, and your brother peering out cautiously after the demon who'd just saved them. You clap your hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, to avoid calling out. Mercy, mercy, mercy. It's a mercy that you know could never be given twice. They're alive.  They'll start over somewhere else and make a new life, somewhere safe, no doubt. Tears flow freely and for the first time in ages, they are not bitter, painful tears, but tears of relief. 

You stare at the small figures of your family, watch them disappear back into your home and emerge with cloth sacks strapped to their backs, until they walk down the ruined streets and are blocked from your view. As if on cue, Sesshoumaru walks into view of the clearing. Rin waves, cheerfully; Jaken splutters out ignored questions about what he was doing down there, anyway. 

You watch him with tear-filled eyes, eyes that for once are not glaring or hate-filled. He gives you half a glance--did he nod at you? or did you imagine it?--and then looks away, continuing wordlessly down the path he'd taken before you saw your village.

"We're leaving," he says. And you follow.

[blzzrdstryr]

Misery

Sadistic!Yandere!Diluc x Fatui Harbinger!GN!reader

Wordcount: 6748

CW: torture, sex, foul language, isolation, sensory deprivation, extremely unhealthy relationships, dubcon, mindbreak, violence

Diluc isn’t a cruel person. Not necessarily. He punishes you only when you are difficult and for the last few weeks you tried to stay on your best behavior. Ragnvindr is nice to you, benevolent even, willing to look past your former affiliations and shower you with love. At times his affections seem suffocating and irking, blood red eyes following your every movement and him absorbing your every word as if it is a holy scripture, but you remind yourself that his love is the best thing that happened to you in your whole life.

Truly, Diluc is so kind to take you in and help you fix the errors of your old ways, even when you were snarling and spitting insults in his face, too stubborn to see how wrong your old life was. You were ignorant and ungrateful back then, seeing nothing but a Harbinger title and service to Tsaritsa. You forced Diluc to lock you up to make you realize that you didn't need your title or your vision or your archon. He is there for you and it's all that matters, you can rely on him for everything and he is happy to provide, persistent in his care for you and even now he is patient with your… deficiencies, waiting when you stop staring into the distance with vacant eyes.

You stand in front of an open but barred window, a typically Mondstadtian landscape revealed to you - bright green grass and patches of dandelions and windwheel asters growing in small groups with tall trees of the same shade finishing the picture. A gentle breeze flows through the opening, playing with your hair and caressing your skin, yet you imagine another type of wind - stronger and colder, relentless and carrying small snowflakes on the way. You close the eyes and see another image - tall, leafless trees covered by multiple layers of snow and the white ground between them. Snow shines and glitters under the pale winter sun, and you feel alive and bitter at the same time.

You know the place, having been there once, but your memory now is too blurry and fuzzy. All of the events prior to Diluc fixing you up are too foggy to make out the finer details and it somehow makes you feel sad, when you should be grateful instead. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t make them stop, rapidly going from silent crying to full on hysterics.

You hear Diluc asking what’s wrong with a concern in his voice, his hands slightly shaking your crying form. You can’t answer him, wailing even louder and stronger, hiding your face in both hands, ashamed from the sudden outburst and overwhelmed from unreasoned sorrow and heartache. Only when Ragnvindr painfully squeezes both of your shoulders and demands to know what is wrong with you in that tone that makes you shiver and gasp, do you stop, looking at him with wide scared eyes, hands that were used to cover your face, are now up in the air in a semi defensive stance.

He seems uncomfortable by your reaction, a slight frown appearing on his face, scarlet brows knit together and corners of mouth turned downward. “I am sorry”, you say, voice small and pleading, eyes casted aside not meeting his out of embarrassment. Why did you start to act so childish out of the blue?

“There’s nothing to apologize”, Diluc takes off the glove, using an uncovered hand to wipe away the tear tracks from your cheeks. There’s no irritation in his voice, just concern, so you risk a glance at him, as he continues: “You are just making me worry”

“I am sorry” you repeat, feeling a prick to your heart, as you process his words - Ragnvindr is so good to you, providing with everything you could ever ask of, and here you are, making him concerned and anxious over some silly daydreams. “It’s really nothing, I just need to be more attentive, that’s it”

You noticed that it’s harder for you to stay in the moment as you start to frequently space out, mind too occupied by the memories of days long past - playing with peers, entering Fatui, receiving a delusion. It’s a futile thing, but images still consume all of your attention and focus, keeping you from sleeping and eating.

“[First], I...” he starts, but then trails off, huffing to mask his hesitancy. Instead of talking he takes your face in one hand and leans in, his lips meeting yours. It's a slow and gentle kiss at first, but just like all other things with Diluc it quickly escalates into something more: his hands now take you by your waist and tug you closer to him, making you press with your entire chest against him, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue freely exploring the confines of your mouth as you moan into his from pleasure and such close proximity.

When you two part, Diluc leaves you flushed and dizzy, with heart quickly pounding against the ribcage. You feel a fire of arousal igniting inside of you, it travels from your chest to belly and soon spreads to the rest of the body. Your cheeks heat up as you stand up on tiptoes to whisper “Can we do it right now?” in Diluc’s ear, voice full of both shame and anticipation.

“Of course, my dear”, there are hints of a smile in his tone and he effortlessly lifts you up and heads for the bedroom and as he carries you you can’t help but zone out again, the memories of past days flashing in your mind.

***

Your first meeting happens during one winter night, as you receive the order to deal with him day prior, at a Harbinger meeting in the Zapolyarny palace. Eleven of you stay kneeling in the main hall, awaiting for Her Majesty to come in as Scaramouche and Tartaglia start to bicker as usual.

“I bet it’s about that mysterious person who’s destroying one stronghold after the other” Childe starts, voice full of bravado and smugness, fake smile blooming on his face: “Fortunately, Tsaritsa has me to take on whatever this stranger is”.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Tartaglia”, Scaramouche remarks, almost spitting out the last word.

“Why shouldn’t I? I am the youngest here, yet I am also the strongest. Why are you so upset? Feeling envious of my power?” Childe retorts, voice still sounding too cheery to be natural.

“If there was anything to envy. You may be the best at fighting among us, but it’s the only thing you are good at”.

“Huh, it seems I was wrong. Maybe little Scaramouche wants to be as tall as me and that’s why he spits out his funny silly slander”.

It must have struck the nerve, as Scaramouche snaps back with an angry tirade, from which their exchange escalates into a heated battle of barely hidden insults. You, just as the rest of other Harbingers listen to their conversation, half amused and half irritated, lifting the brows at the creative mockings.

“Silence”, domineering and overpowering voice says and you still yourself, eyes casted downwards, as Childe and Scaramouche stop their exchange at the same moment. Footsteps echo throughout the hall, as a feminine figure takes its place on a high throne in the middle of the hall. Tsaritsa has arrived.

“As I can see my children already know about the perpetrator attacking my servants” archon starts, divine power and absolute authority evident in each syllable. You feel how the deity’s eyes look at all of you, despite still keeping head bowed and stance obedient.

“Innamorati”, you hear your title and lift up your gaze, ready to take whatever order the Goddess has for you.

“I entrust you with this task, don’t disappoint me”.

***

Diluc is not a coward and he never was one, but now he can’t help but feel a pang of fear, looking at your approaching form.

“Let’s test our delusions, shall we?”, you almost purr, voice soft, silken smooth and full of unspoken threat. It sends shivers down his spine, yet he still equips this cursed thing and braces himself for the upcoming battle.

There’s a stillness in your moves, a confidence that whatever Diluc has in his arsenal, you can endure and answer with something deadly in return. This dangerous calm both disturbs and excites young Ragnvindr.

He lashes out on you with a stream of accursed chains, filling the air with the sickly sweet scent of mist grass. You easily side step his attack, letting out a cheerless laugh and then come back with a cold gust, frost air currents easily cutting through his skin.

He barely dodges the attack, slowly registering the pain from injury. It’s a shallow cut and a testament to your strength, Diluc thinks, as he touches the scrape, marvelling at your speed. In the end, Diluc can’t stand against you - you’re stronger, have more experience and infinitely faster than him, bringing down one overwhelming attack after the other, a catalyst shining and glowing as you do so.

He jumps and ducks and runs, avoiding one hit after the other, yet there's only so much his body can do. Soon his limbs grow heavier and his breathing labored, Diluc slows down and that's when your attack finally strikes him. It pierces his body, pools of blood quickly forming under him.

Diluc falls down, his battered body no longer able to stand. Memories and regrets alike flood his mind, reminding him of deeds he wishes he did and deeds he wishes he didn’t. He remembers his childhood - all daydreams and high hopes, the world around him bright and friendly. He remembers his father's dying face and Kaeya’s guilt-ridden expression. He remembers overwhelming helplessness and grief transforming into righteous anger and hate.

It all seems so pointless now - leaving the Mondstadt, breaking all bonds with Kaeya or spending years in a mindless massacre, satiating his thirst for revenge by destroying one Fatui stronghold after the other, with no regard for his body or spirit. What was the point of it all, if he's still there, lying and bleeding to death, as you look down on him?

He throws, what he thinks, the last glance at the world, a strange thought appearing in his mind as he looks at you: I want them. As Diluc's consciousness fades he misses a sound of an observer's footsteps.

Later, as he gets saved by the said third party’s observer, who commented and praised Diluc’s methods, he replays the encounter in his mind, getting confused at this particular thought. Why would he want you? Maybe he wants you to die or maybe he wants to see you defeated, but in no way he sees you as desirable. In the end he blames everything on his oxygen deprived brain at the time, explaining the strange attraction he felt for you at that moment.

Having a near death experience and a taste of his own dying regrets, he decides to return to Mondstadt and as he does, thoughts about you continue to pester him. They fly around and buzz, reminding Diluc of your face, eyes and voice, of your body and skills and that terrifying speed you attacked him at. He swats them away like a noisy, annoying flies, suppressing and burying feelings deep, deep down, and naming his interest in you “a desire for revenge and retribution”.

***

Your second meeting happens once the news of a sudden Stormterror attack reaches Tsaritsa’s ears - a perfect opportunity for acquiring anemo archon’s gnosis and a new step in her rebellion against Celestia. She thinks about sending La Signora at first, as your fellow Harbinger is fast and ruthless, able to complete a job no matter the cost, but soon archon changes her mind and picks you instead. For secrecy and subterfuge, she adds, don’t disappoint me.

I won't, you promise more to yourself than her, as Tsaritsa never asks but orders. With your head bowed in deep respect and the heavy gaze of the goddess on your form, you decide that you will do your best to bring cryo archon's vision into reality. You are dispatched to Mondstadt the same week, first by ship, then by carriage. Pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya quickly morph into bright Mondstadtian green, and you finally arrive.

Despite or maybe because of Mondstadt having almost nothing similar with Snezhnaya, it steals a breath from you for a moment - city stands on a lone isle in the middle of deep blue lake, tall windmills and bright red roofs seen from a distance, along with a giant statue of Barbatos blessing the city.

Acting Grandmaster Jean greets you, her stern blue eyes intently observing you, as she says standard Favonius salute and you return your own cliche lines - about Tsaritsa’s concern and a peacekeeping mission, empty phrases that don’t elaborate on what actually Fatui will do. She fails to suppress a frown upon hearing it, sensing your real intentions, but you pay it no mind - Jean has no way or reason strong enough to ban you from Mondstadt without causing a diplomatic conflict.

You turn on the heels after brief negotiations, heading for the Goth Grand Hotel, mind already full of plans and schemes of obtaining the Gnosis. Before you departed, Tsaritsa shared a very interesting fact to you - throughout the centuries Barbatos used only one mortal form, disguising himself as a young cheerful bard named Venti. You dispatch a couple of agents and cicin mage to look for a person fitting the description, and then turn your attention to the rest of the fatuis.

You scold Anastasia for unprofessional rudeness towards Jean. “We need to maintain a benevolent image”, you say to her, right before demoting her and temporarily sending her off to Dragonspine as a punishment. Under your rule fatuis cease sneering and belittling Mondstadt in public, lessening no doubt growing ire of locals.

All goes well, until several events happen. Stormterror attacks the city and some blonde foreigner fights off the dragon, wielding mind blowingly strong anemo powers and riding the wind, like a flying bird. Then your agents finally find a bard, reporting that “Venti" prefers to spend a considerable amount of both time and mora in two local taverns - Angel’s Share and Cat’s tail.

You don civilian clothing, heading for the former tavern and send off a couple of other disguised agents to the latter one. Now, stripped of your mask and harbinger attire, citizens stop gawking and staring at you, their eyes passing your form, as you make your way as an ordinary passerby.

No one pays you attention, as you enter the tavern, save for the strange six fingered bard at the entrance. He tries to sell you his performance, but you wave him off, heading for the bar. And here you see him again - you recognize the unknown attacker, his bright red hair and eyes betraying him the same second. Your faces mirror in recognition as a tense silence settles between you.

“So what is Fatui doing in this tavern?”he asks loudly and half of the customers stop drinking and stare at you. You sigh “enjoying” the atmosphere he created, and utter a premade excuse: “Mondstadt is known for its wine industry and the best wines are sold by Dawn Winery. It would be a shame if I left the city without tasting its finest drinks first”.

You glance at the red gem on his collar, an obvious heirloom of a famous clan: “Didn’t know that Ragnvindr heir would spend his days working as a bartender. You must be Diluc, then. Am I right?". He doesn't dignify you with an answer, preferring to wipe the glasses and serve other customers, his eyes still observing you from time to time.

You quit the tavern early, as “Venti”, as it turns out, leaves the same second he hears about your presence. You order agents to spy on him, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, that you don't get a chance to act on.

You get attacked by Diluc on your way to the Windrise tree, where according to your intel, Barbatos decided to go. He slowly pulls out his claymore and you notice a difference between old and current him.

He is calm this time, his movements lacking fervent hatred and anger that was present during your first battle. He must have gotten stronger then, if he feels so confident, entering a battle with you. Or grown foolish, your mind supplies.

You start to fight, exchanging one blow for another, as he surprises you - there's no barbed chains rushing into your direction, only an orange light fire surrounding the claymore. A pyro vision dangles on his waist, glowing and shining as he activates it's powers. You masterfully dodge his hits, shooting combined anemo and cryo attacks from the catalyst.

Suddenly you step on a burning grass, and hiss and close your eyes from the sudden pain. Diluc uses this time to disarm you, his heavy claymore crushing a delicate catalyst into small pieces. It happens so fast, that you are left speechless at the sudden turn of the battle tides.

With no weapon left, all you can do is dodge and run - you almost reach the city again. it’s walls become visible as you do your best to push your body beyond limits, fatigue weighing down on every muscle. Diluc sends a phoenix - a damn phoenix! - on your way. Fire licks your skin and scorches ends of your hair, but you manage to dodge it too - if only by a small chance - and fall to the ground, mind drifting off to the unconscious world.

***

You come up to your senses slowly and gradually; first there are sensations - a rough rope around your wrists, wet, yet rugged stone walls, then the smells, tastes and sounds - stale, musty air, a coppery blood on your tongue and a shift of a fabric, and then the images at last - dark basement and a bright red blotch, that after a time becomes a head.

There’s a man sitting beside you, Diluc Ragnvindr, your memory supplies. You feel calm and confused for a moment until you remember the fight you both had. Seems, he finally overpowered you.

“You are awake” he says, voice grim and quiet.

“It seems I am. Let me guess, you dragged me here because you want to know what this big bad harbinger plans to do?”. Control your breathing, don’t let him hear the tremble of your voice, don’t let him see the fear in your eyes.

He looks at you with an unreadable gaze and you hold his stare, looking absolutely untroubled in return, a knowing and somewhat self-confident smirk playing in your lips. No matter his status in Mondstadt, Diluc kidnapped you, one of the fatui Harbingers and a close associate of Tsaritsa. His action, no doubt, will force Fatui to severe action, an action that neither his nation nor his people will be able to withstand.

“Think bigger”, he finally says: “I don’t care what you planned to do. I already have you here, weak and helpless. No, what I want is intel on what your goddess and organization are after”.

“Oh, mister Diluc, you want to play a big game? It’s dangerous in case you didn’t know. Maybe after I tell you all of our wicked plans, you will wish you had never asked” you purr, sensing how it grates his nerves, despite him keeping his face and stance impassive.

“How so?”

“Tsaritsa is the greatest of all seven, her vision is absolute. Even if you learn of her plans I doubt you will be able to stop any of them”.

“I asked what the plans were, not what you think of cryo archon”. Diluc’s voice becomes a tone louder, the already present frown on his face subtly deepening.

“Then I am afraid you won’t get any from me”.

He suddenly gets closer to you, his hand yanking you by your head. You hiss, trying to free the bound hands, as he drags you to a nearby barrel with water by hair and then he dips you in it. You instinctively jerk in his hold, a cold water seeping in your nose and mouth as he holds you underwater. Ten second passes, twenty, thirty, you jerk again, your head throbbing and aching from the lack of air, he pulls you upwards.

You nearly black out from the abrupt change, gulping down in the air and coughing out water. He repeats his question and you deny him again. He dips you more, each time becoming a bit longer than the last, only to repeat his query. You lose how many times he lowered you into liquid, absolutely wet and shivering now, when he finally stops and ties you up to the same place you woke up to.

“We will continue tomorrow, I have business to attend to. I suggest you use this time to rethink whether you want to tell me Tsaritsa’s plans or not, as I can get much worse” He heads for the exit from the basement, as you greedily inhale the air.

“Wait”, you say, still breathing heavily: “Aren’t you afraid of the punishment? You kidnapped me, a harbinger, and then proceeded to torture me. Tsaritsa will have your head for this slight against her.”

“Tsaritsa won’t find out. Your Harbingers won’t find out. No one will find out if there’s no evidence”. He steps closer to you, his voice becoming firmer with each word.

“And how do you think you will manage to hide the evidence? You left the knights years ago, you are nothing but a businessman at this point. I doubt they will cover up for you”.

“How did..”

“Oh, Diluc, people talk and I am very, very nosy. That girl, Donna, she told so much to my subordinates about you ”, you mock her, imitating her high breathy manner: “Oh Diluc, he was the youngest captain, but then he left. I wonder why he left? Maybe the knights wronged him!”

“Honestly, with the amount of ire you subject poor knights to, only a deaf and a blind won’t know about how much you despise Favonius Order'', you continue, anger and hatred seeping into your voice.

“I still have connections”, he says absolutely nonchalantly.

“Oh, do you bribe them, then? You criticize the knights for being corrupt, yet you are willing to ask them to hide my abduction? It’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”

Diluc doesn’t answer this time, finally stepping out of the room and locking the door. You sit alone in a dimly lit room, water still all over you and heart quickly beating in your chest, trying to calm down. Later, when your heartbeat stops booming in your own ears, you pray to Tsaritsa, asking Goddess to grant you strength and endurance.

***

You manage to doze off once your clothes are almost dry. The dreams you see are vague and murky, dripping with a sense of unease and anxiety, you see dark silhouettes that morph into looming shadows that later transform into phantasmagorical monsters. It must be why you wake up the same second door opens with Diluc entering the room.

He looks grimmer now, more determined. You brace yourself for his hands tugging at your hair again and lungs burning from lack of oxygen, but none of it comes. He uses a dagger to slice your clothes off, careful not to damage skin underneath. Out of pure nerves you quip some stupid joke about dining first, but he pays you no mind, his hands soon touching your bare legs and looks at them with a filthy stare, his red eyes consuming revealed flesh.

You still under his stare, heart pounding as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of what he might do to you right now. Almost a minute passes, when he finally stops staring at your legs and begins to move his arms, caressing your inner side of the thigh instead.

You shift from the discomfort, alarmed when his palms start to heat up. He wants to burn me, you think and barely stop yourself from screaming by biting your lip. A disgusting smell of burnt flesh fills up your nose as tears start to travel down your face. He removes the hand, revealing two angry red imprints with a collection of small blisters already forming. Diluc, again, asks the same question, and just like the last time you refuse to answer.

He does upkeep his threat of becoming much worse, with his hands burning your naked body - he targets sensitive spots or joints,so everytime you shift or move they throb and burn, disturbed at the smallest of motions.

“You're not the one to think about the consequences, are you?”, you ask when he finishes, voice quiet and raspy from screaming.

"No one will find you".

"I am one of the Tsaritsa's most trusted servants, of course they will find me", you pretend you don't hear desperation in your own voice.

"Time will show", Diluc says philosophically, looking as gentlemanly as possible despite him torturing you seconds ago.

"Yes, it will", you agree with him, picturing the bastard's face once he gets thrown in prison.

He leaves the room and you allow yourself to slump, careful not to move burned areas too much, and then he returns again, this time with food and medicine. He works fast at bandaging and disinfecting the burns, seems he is as intent at patching you up, as he is at tearing you apart. As he swathes another burn, you look at the brought food.

It’s unlikely he would drug it to make you tell the truth, given that he already tortures you and he doesn’t seem to be a type to play mind games. It still could be laced with poison though, not lethal one, that would be counterproductive, but the one that can cause pain and tremors all over your body. You’ve seen such substance at work once, when Il Dottore decided to show you the fruits of his experiments - victims were thrashing and shaking on the floor once a five minute mark had been passed, by the twentieth they already admitted to all crimes, regardless of how innocent they were.

It might be even a new torture method, devised by Diluc, just to strip you from the short respite when you are not in pain. He finally looks up to you, finishing the bandage, noticing the stare you look at the food with. "It's not poisoned" he guesses your thoughts, taking a small bite and a sip to prove his words. A minute passes, then the second and the third ones, nothing happens with him, no blushing or paling skin, no wide blown or pinprick pupils, nothing. It still could be a slow acting poison, but you doubt it - they're usually harder to cure, Diluc wouldn't willingly consume it given the long list of aftereffects that remain even after antidote was administered.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stay to feed you, leaving you with food alone. It’s a potato hash browns, absolutely unseasoned and cold. You almost swallow them whole from hunger, realizing how starved you are once the smell of food reaches you. After a day(?) of fasting, satiation hits you full force, drowsiness pulling at every muscle. The tableware he brought is metallic and easily bends, so you can't smash it and use sharp pieces, nor are there any utensils to weaponize. You lay down on the side, as something falls on you. It's a stone.

Your hands take it, feeling its shape - mostly smooth with one angular protrusion. It's not sharp or pointed enough for you to cut through the bindings, but with enough time and effort it can break the rope with friction alone. You begin to work, grating the rope again and again, fighting off the sleepiness.

***

Diluc nods to Adelinde, as he returns from Mondstadt after signing the contract with winesellers from Inazuma. She understands this wordless gesture, starting to talk: “The.. guest you brought has eaten, last time I checked they still were awake. I did my best to be quiet, master Diluc”.

He dismisses her, thanking for her observations and decides to go down himself. A strange sort of fascination fills him, as he turns the key in the lock, that also prompts a burning shame that he grew accustomed to in the last few days.

It’s an awful thing, to find pleasure in another’s suffering - a trait of a heartless monster, as his father once said, but despite the chagrin he still can’t help but feel a quickening of the pulse as a pained whimper escapes your lips. It’s addicting honestly, to have you of all people, naked and trembling and helpless at his total control, when you were so close to ending his life just a couple of months ago. He supposes it's a type of karmic punishment to you, a fatui harbinger, no doubt a killer and horrible person - you deserve it, he tells to himself - you deserve it for being a fatui.

Moreover, you are not only a terrible, terrible person that deserves much more gruesome torture that he allows, you are also a source of priceless information - how many lives will be saved and avenged if you just tell him what fatuis plan to do. You are a harbinger, you are bound to know something, unlike most of the fatui.

Diluc carefully glances at you as he enters - you are still sitting in the same spot he left you in, head slumped low and shoulders relaxed. It seems you are asleep. He still makes his way to you, steps slow and quiet. Your hands are bound with rope and Diluc knows how much the rough fiber pulls and chafes at skin, grating it to the blood and ropeburns - he needs to use this short respite to quickly disinfect and bandage you again.

Diluc crouches down, as you twitch and then something aims for his head, he flinches a second too slow to dodge. You nearly manage to hit him right in the temple. His head almost splits in half from the burst of pain, vision blurry and disoriented.

You quickly stand, enduring the pain from the burns and make your way to the room. Diluc runs after you, panic and anger distorting his face in equal manner - he can’t let anyone see you like that! - but you manage to lock him in using his own keys. He kicks and thrashes the door, angry at himself for not carrying claymore with him, as something loudly collides with the wall at the other side. He hears a short surprised yelp and whimper - your whimper and the too familiar footsteps descending down the stairs- Adelinde.

“Master Diluc? Is everything okay?”, the headmaid unlocks the room, concern in her voice:”I saw.. the guest running out of the basement, so I pushed them back before other maids could see”

“Everything is fine, check on the Harbinger, I still need intel”.

Turns out, you blacked out upon the impact, a small trail of blood making its way down the head. Diluc is still angry at you, head throbbing and hurting, his hands itching to hit and burn you, but he can’t allow himself to lose control: you are hurt and he doesn’t want to kill you.

In the end, it’s all predictable, Diluc muses, you are an animal first and human second, your allegiance testament to that. He was too soft, too forgiving on you and you decided to twist his kindness like a blade in the back. His head still hurts, but he finally calms, reasoning your attack as an outlash of a mindless beast.

He carries your limp body in hands, finally taking out of the basement and takes you to one of the guest rooms at the second floor of the winery - it’s a risky move, but you injured your head and in Diluc’s experiences such traumas almost always carry a great risk - maybe you will even forget who you are and there’ll be no one for Diluc to interrogate to.

Placing your body on the bed he clasps a cuff around each of your limbs and gags and blindfolds you. After a second, he asks Adelinde for cotton and stuffs your ears full of it.

Human mind stripped of all stimuli is such a dangerous thing, tearing itself apart.

***

You wake up to darkness and silence, head slightly pulsing from pain. You lie on some sort of very soft bed, silk smooth sheets consuming and hugging most of your body as you wiggle your limbs, tugging at the cuffs.

A small wave of panic washes over you, as you remain absolutely blind and deaf to the world, but you try to remain calm, unsure if Diluc is standing near or not. The bindings on your hands are made of iron now, so you soon stop, knowing it's a futile thing. The only thing you can do is wait.

You don't know how much time passes between you regaining consciousness and the air shifting around you. Having been stripped of both sight and hearing, your other senses became a bit sharper, mind focusing on them to compensate. It's a subtle change of pressure but you still feel it, it's enough for you to guess where this person stands. Suddenly hands grope at you, touching and probing the place near burns. You would scream if it wasn’t for the gag, from pain and violation alone. It's a smaller palms, judging by sensations, they change the bandages. After whoever that was finishes patching you they leave you alone, their departure evoking both relief and sadness - they were a source of stimulations, stimulations that your mind desperately needs.

You start to tug at the bindings again - this time to procure pain, just to feel something again. You are bored, you are in pain and you are scared - not the best combination. Soon, you decide to distract yourself from ever increasing boredom with memories. Images of your past life flash and change before you - here’s you playing catch and hide and seek, here’s you receiving a vision, here’s you entering fatui and climbing through the ranks, here's you receiving delusion from Tsaritsa’s own hands and here's you battling Diluc for the first time.

I should have killed him, you think, I should have spent less time talking and more time fighting, the bastard wouldn't live to see another day and I wouldn't be here.

A strange feeling of panic settles in your bones, as you try to occupy yourself, it's subtle but never ending, slowly growing with each second. You try to daydream but you can’t, not when you are cuffed and your body burns. You try to reminisce again, but you can do only so much, memories becoming dull and repetitive. Soon, the subtle panic becomes not so subtle and you realize you are gasping and thrashing, limbs achings as you rub them against the rough shackles.

You must have blacked out or drifted to sleep, because the next time you wake up you feel a bit different - a little cleaner and more sated - they tend to me, when I am unconscious you realize. Diluc wants to limit all interactions I have.

You don't know how much time you spend there in the end, but it has a profound effect on you - at first the concept of sharing fatui plans with your captor seems nonsensical and traitorous, but after a couple of days-weeks(?) of being chained to one place with limited movement and perception, it stops looking like such a bad idea to you.

Time distorts around you, you can't tell how long you were lying there, seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into near eternities. At one point you started to cry again, scared and panicked and then you proceeded to scream.

***

Diluc comes to you again, taking out the cotton and blindfold from your person. Your eyes hurt and your head starts to ache again from the rush of noises, and you blink a couple of times to see the man before you. A strange mix of emotions washes over you - you hate Diluc, you truly despise him with every fibre of your being, yet now Diluc is the only person you have, the only person you see. It’s so confusing and overwhelming that you start to cry, unable to process any of the feelings.

Diluc looks as prim and proper as ever, as he shushes your crying and promises to let you go if only you will tell Tsaritsa’s plans. You almost believe him, Fatui secrets dancing at the tip of his mouth, yet you hold on to the pieces of your loyalty, slowly shaking your head. He asks you again, doubt and concern in his voice. It will be better if you tell me, he says, his hand still stroking you, don’t you want to walk and see again?.

His hand stops stroking you, face turning back to stone when you refuse him for the second time. He fixes blindfold and cotton again and part of you is howling - it’s scary, so scary to be left alone with nothing but your thoughts.

This time you start to break far faster, having tasted freedom for a mere second. You break down and tell Diluc everything you know next time he visits. His hand on you feels like salvation and punishment at the same time. At the end of your confession you are too empty, all of your secrets laid before him, no place for sadness or grief left inside of you. You feel whatever was inside of you was scorched off by Diluc and it left you thoroughly burnt. Dead. Made of ash.

“My name is [First]”, you wail and howl, shoulders slightly shaking as you do. You want so much to have some human contact, to hear someone call your name for once.

It’s cathartic in a way, to tell all the secrets your mind has been bustling with ever since becoming a harbinger. He doesn’t flinch or frown when you tell what exactly you witnessed or did, intently listening to each word.

He keeps his promise and uncuffs you from the bed, but you are still not allowed to leave the room, which doesn’t really disappoint you. There are books and a small barred window that opens a view to the wineyard, a feast for the starving mind. You spend at least an hour standing at the window at first, amazed that you can see people working.

He gifts you clothes and other books, assigns a housemaid to look after you, the same one that pushed you down the stairs when you were running away, she doesn’t speak to you, preferring to avoid your gaze.

Sometimes you do feel sad - you betrayed Tsaritsa, you betrayed your homeland, you lost both vision and delusion - but you quickly shove it down, unable to process feelings properly. You know you are defeated, having seen similar behavior from fatui prisoners, and Diluc knows it too, a malice and triumph and satisfaction burning on his eyes, despite the impassive face.

He sees you as a trophy, a reminder of how he reduced the great fatui harbinger to your current condition. He orders you around and punishes when you disobey, calls it reeducation, calls it teaching you how to be a decent person, calls it a punishment for your sins. A part of you wants to retort and point out his own failings, but you stop yourself at the root, unwilling to be stripped from the world again. You comply, you suppress, you break little by little. It all pleases him.

You learn to love what hurt you the most out of pure fear.

***

“First?”, it’s Diluc, shaking you slightly by the shoulders. You snap back to reality, seeing that he already carried you to bed and undressed you.

“I am here, you can continue” you whisper as he leans down to pepper your chest and collarbone with kisses, and then hiss as he bites you.

“Mhm, that’s good,” he says, warm hands traveling down to your thighs, caressing the inner side: “Could you spread them a bit?”

You obey, equally parts scared and excited.

Truly, Diluc is the best thing that happened in your life.

Note: All fatui harbinger names are taken from commedia dell'arte. Innamorati are a couple of lovers, madly in love with each other and with the idea of being in love. I thought it would be ironic.

[mxvladdy]

Lost Affections: Part 3

Ayyyyoooo. Here is the last part to @marymaryroo's request!

On to the next one :)

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Beelzebub

Beel would never call himself accident-prone. He didn’t trip and stumble like Belphie when sleep deprived. He most certainly wasn’t as bad as Mammon when he was without his glasses or contacts. No, he would never say he was that bad. While not clumsy he knew he could be careless, especially when food was in the picture. He didn’t think twice about eating random things. It did hurt anyone, not physically. Sure, Luke and Satan got a little put out when he swiped something, but it didn’t hurt them.

He just forgets sometimes that you are different. You and he go together so well he forgets that you aren’t a demon. You don’t have the steel stomach or fast recovery time that he has. You make up for it. When you go out to eat you always research the place ahead of time. Does the place have non-enchanted food? Human grade options? If not, you make sure that Beel has his fill before taking him somewhere more appropriate for your stomach. Neither of you thinks about residual contaminants.

His life with you unravels with kisses. It is a slow, inconspicuous death. It builds over time with each brush of his lips to yours. Neither of you notices the taste of magic clinging to his mouth or tongue, neither of you thinks of the implications of all the weird potions and food he samples.

It starts small, you forget simple things about him. When his club activities ended, or what his favorite post-game drink was. He brushes it off, it’s trivial really. You are busy and these things can happen to the best of them. He keeps brushing off the nagging worry until he can’t.

It comes to a head one night at the door to your room. “Beel?” You yawn, pulling your robes closer around you. “What’s up?” You glance down at the box of snacks and pillows in his hands. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s date night.”

Your brows shoot up, facing heating. “What.” You sputter. Beel frowns, placing the box at his feet. With slow movements, he places his hand on your forehead. You were a little warm.

“Mmmmm.” His hearts flutter with nerves. Was his little human sick? He ignores the way you stiffen when he touches you. “Do you need a doctor?” He asks bending down to look you in the eye. He catches a whiff of something when you exhale. It is faint but clings to your breath, it’s sickly sweet and sharp to his nostrils. “You need a doctor.”

Without a second thought, he grabs your arm and drags you out of your room. His food forgotten in the hallway with your protests buzzing in his ears. “Beel...Beel!” You stumble after him. He ignores you each step he takes determined and picks up speed. Before you know it you are sitting next to Gluttony in Purgatory waiting for Solomon, beyond confused and anxious.

You fidget on the couch, peeking glances at the troubled look on the red-heads face. This wasn’t like him. He was a man of few words, sure, but this was new. Beel left you to your devices mostly, a few polite conversations here and there, but you two never hung out a lot. You zone out when he starts talking to Solomon. You were still half asleep from Beel waking you up. You had been sleeping so soundly beforehand. “Are you alright?” You jerk awake unaware that you started dozing again. Solomon crouches in front of you.

“I think so?” You had no idea what this was about. “I’m just tired.” The mage says nothing to you, instead turning to glance at Beel. He jerks his head to the door, a clear signal for the old demon to wait outside.

With one last pitiful glance, Beelzebub leaves the two humans to converse. “Now then.” Solomon rounds his piercing eyes back to you. “Tell me how's your stay in the Devildom?”

You tell him confused but willing to play along with his odd request, the sooner you wrap this up the sooner you can go back to bed. An odd feeling of missing something begins to grow as you tell him. Soon you began to fumble, the harder you try to recount something the harder it was to collect. You still were convinced anything was seriously wrong but the growing look of concern on Solomon’s face was making you think otherwise. “So,” You finish rubbing your knees with sweaty palms. “I’m I dying or something?”

He laughs dismissing the notion with a wave of a well-manicured hand. “No, no your soul is still firmly in place.” He rubs his chin. “But you have lost your memory, only when it comes to Beelzebub though. It is very peculiar. Have you ingested anything weird of late? Done any experiments with Satan?” You shake your head. To the best of your knowledge, you have been really careful with your food intake while down here. Devildom foods were delicious but had potential side effects for you and Solomon.

Solomon nods. He figured that. “Could I draw some blood? It sounds to me like you might have trace contamination of some kind. Diavolo and I discussed that this might happen but I wish to double-check.” Well, that’s worrisome, you nod and begin to roll up your sleeve. Solomon bustles collecting a few vials and a mouth swab for extra measure.

“Thank you.” He smiles looking at the samples with scientific glee. “I will let you know what I find. Until then, I guess just go about your regular day. Unless you feel ill, in that case, come to me immediately.” With that, he leaves you depositing you back with Beel.

The walk back to the House was more subdued, both of you were confused as to what to do next. “So,” You flounder. “We were-are an item?”

He shrugs looking down at you. “Yes. We’d hang out in your room on Saturdays, and get brunch on Sundays... do you still want to?”

You shrug feeling awkward. You felt nothing but platonic friendship to the large demon, though Solomon did fill you in on what you apparently have forgotten. “If you want to? I’m up now, and too nervous to sleep.” Beel grunts clenching his fists at his side.

“No,” He shakes his head. “You should rest, even if you can’t sleep. This is overwhelming. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?” You feel bad. He sounds so hopeful when he asks, like a good night’s sleep was all you needed to fix whatever this was.

You reach for his big hand and squeeze it. “Sure, Beelzebub. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He lets you go watching you head back into the house. Running on instinct he turns and heads into the dense forest surrounding the house. He needed to hunt for a bit.

That’s how his twin finds him, gorging himself on the fauna of the forest. Belphie’s socked feet pad loudly over the dried grass and scattered bones of the once lush lowlands. “You know Lucifer is going to be pissed. It takes forever for the wildlife to come back after one of your benders.” He tosses his oversized pillow onto the dead grass and lays down. Belphie doses for a moment, the sound of his brother’s many mouths and whistling of wings a white noise to him. Up until an obnoxious locus landed on his nose.

“Beel.” He flicks the bug off his face, shooting the swarm coating his brother’s skin a sour look. “What’s going on?”

Forgot. Me. One of his mouths rattles out, flecks of meat and vegetation falling from between crooked and jagged teeth. Another opens near his rib cage to speak. They. Don’t. Love. Me.

“I’ll kill them.” Already Belphie is back on his feet. He feels for his brother and his plight, but the thought that you betrayed him after you promised to never hurt Beel took precedence. The storm of bugs goes quiet, all the millions of eyes now turn to him. They jerk and twitch in unison before converging back on the mass of leathery gaunt skin of his brother. His human form takes shape slowly, shiny wings and many mandibled skulls melding together to create his flesh.

Beel grabs Belphie’s shoulders. His claws dig into the soft fabric of his nightshirt. “It’s not their fault.”

“Then who?” Beel chuckles weakly at his brother’s blood lust. He couldn’t deny that he felt it too, but he had no idea where to channel this anger.

So he ate. It calmed him a little. If he could get into the village and eat there...no. The last time he siphoned the emotions from the populous at large Lucifer got mad. The whole of the Devildom had to shut down for a good week to recover. He rubs his stomach a feeling of agitation growing in the pits of them. “Don’t know. Solomon is taking a look at it.” Belphie snorts a sneer growing on his lips. “He is helping, Belphie.”

“Sure-right. That boy meddles in all shorts of shit he shouldn’t. Careful he doesn’t try to bargain with your skin for this.” He eyes where your mark rests on his brother. It would be a perfect lure to entrap his twin in a pact.

Hmm.

No, none of this would do. Belphegor would rather die than let some human-like Solomon meddle anymore in his family’s affairs, and as far as he was concerned the moment you started seeing Beel you were as another sibling. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll bring dinner up to our room.”

After settling Beel under the covers of his massive bed Belphie went on the hunt for more food in the kitchen. He stops by your bedroom door picking up the box of goodies still left in front of it. He piles more things into the box when he reaches the kitchen. Swiping up snacks at random Belphie piles the box sky high. His hand stops over a few of your favorite human snacks. Should he? Honestly, it was a blind shot in the dark if it would comfort his brother or not. After a bit more debate Belphie puts the chocolates back, a different idea already turning in his head.

Back in their shared room, he listens to his brother run down the last week between huge bits of sweets. As he recounts every little thing that has gone down they both began to notice just how strange you have been. Both twins sit in the aftermath of Beel’s words, a wasteland of wrapper and silence stretching between them. “Think it will come back?” The twins lock eyes, Beel’s large and unsure but simmering with foolish hope.

“Possibly.” Belphie grits out, breaking their eye contact. He could never lie to his brother, at least not to his face. “Get some rest. I’m sure someone will have a plan in motion by tomorrow.” He’ll set his plans in motion tonight.

Lying in wait some hours later Belphie listens through the walls of the massive house for your quick little human heartbeat in your bedroom. He matches his shallow breaths with yours feeling yourself slip into slumber and his realm. Once you are completely under he drifts off himself.

He enters your dreams and scowls unused to stumbling inside of a dreamscape. Your dreams are muddled and clotted with stick webs of confusion and hazy memories. Odd bits and pieces of images drip around the edges of your mind. This place was a disgusting mess. With a deep sigh, Belphie begins trudging through the quagmire.

He peers around making note of the black holes in your mind like canvas ripped from their frames. Rotten magic assaults him from all sides. Stopping in front of a particularly deep gash in your mind he rolls up his oversized sleeves finding what he was looking for. He knew this memory was in it, just on the outskirts of the scene playing out. He could knit this rip back together easily, after that it should give him some clarity on the others he couldn’t place.

This was going to take a lot of energy. No one would notice if he stole some energy to get things started. Belphie smiles to himself already tapping into Lucifer's dreamscape, taking a bit more than he needed. You deserve only the best after all.

__________________

“Morning everyone.” You chirp plopping down in your chair. The brothers reply with groggy acknowledgments, completely unlike themselves. You look around at the bunch. “Are you all ok?” The group grunts collectively yawning or rubbing their weary eyes.

“Tough night.” Lucifer looks up from his newspaper. He was half-dead in his chair, a cup of coffee shaking in his hands. Asmo sits beside him looking on the verge of tears as he gently pokes his swollen cheeks and eyelids. The only two that seem to even be remotely coherent were the twins. The youngest of the two sleeping oblivious to the turmoil of his siblings while his brother stares at your every move. “Good morning Beel.” You nod feeling awkward in this shared space.

“Morning.” He smiles at you, a few crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. Something ticks in the back of your mind at his look. A foggy image comes to mind. It feels like a dream, but so real at the same time. It makes you nauseous, a weird sense of dejavu fighting its way to the forefront. “You ok?” He puts a hand on your shoulder.

You blink noticing the room at large turning their gaze to you. You nod, reaching across from him for some leftover food. The moment a bowl of cereal was in your hands Asmo swept you up in a conversation about his “fading” looks. You don’t think of Beel and your predicament for the rest of the day, not until Solomon invites you over to his hall for tea.

“You were poisoned.” He states simply over his sorry excuse of scones. You pause in the middle of trying to break a piece off on the table.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing to apologize for, unless you did it intentionally.” He laughs. “It appears to be through slow ingestion over a long period of time. The levels in your blood are staggering but not lethal. It looks like the magic took root in the temporal lobe-much like a tumor, really quite fascinating- and has been eating away at the memories of the person, or in this case, a demon that poisoned you.” Beel had been poisoning you? Solomon waves his hand at your look of concern. “I am quite positive that it was not intentional. Mind you he does find the most wondrous things to shovel down his gullet. The fact that it mixed perfectly into a potion instead of a lethal toxic is sheer dumb luck on your end.” You breathe a sigh of relief finally tossing the baked good away as a bad job. Well that's...something. At least you’d be alive to stumble around your apparent “forgotten boyfriend”.

“Any chance of fixing this?”

Solomon shrugs. “Possibly? I need more time to figure out exactly what components are involved in your test results. Then making a tonic to undo all the magic is another thing entirely.”He discusses a few other options with you for a few hours, going over in great detail the ins and outs of potion-making. Soon the windows of the sunroom grew dark, the glow of the lamps outside growing brighter so you could see the pathway back to the house.

“I better head back.” You stretch looking out into the pitch outside. Hmmm, if you remember correctly Levi should be off of work by now. He said to call when he was done to come to pick you up. As if on cue a sharp knock on the door disrupts you. Instead of a shock of blue hair, you are greeted with orange. “Oh-hey Beel.”

“Hey.” The corner of his mouth twitches in a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Ready to go?” He picks up your forgotten school bag and takes your sweater from the coat rack. With a well-practiced motion, he slings the bag over his shoulder and holds your sweater open for you. He obviously did this a lot before…

You stare back wide-eyed at Solomon who only smirks, nodding at you to hurry up.

Out the door and into the chilly night you sneak a peek at Beelzebub walking quietly beside you. He catches your look and raises a brow. “Sorry.” You feel your cheeks heat a little under his thoughtful gaze.

“About?”

“All of this.” You wave at yourself. “Please don’t feel obligated to hang out with me. Until we can get this settled. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Beel grunts, stopping in his tracks by a low garden wall. “I was hurt-am still hurting.” He admits. “But this isn’t your fault, so what good does it do to blame you for it? Even if you don’t remember me as your partner, you still remember me as a friend...right?” A warm smile spreads across his face when you nod. “Then I’m ok with this. I haven’t lost you completely and even if you don’t ever feel the same way about me anymore, I think I will be ok.”

“I- thank you Beel. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He hums. “Let’s head back. I think Asmo left some food out.”

You dream of Beel again, a weird amalgamation of scenes all tossed together in a great pile with you in the middle of it. You could do nothing but watch like a film as they rush by you in a blur. Some scenes didn’t line up right, bouncing around like a scratched vinyl, but it still made sense in a way only a dream could. You play out each dream like an actor, the script coming to you naturally with each little venette. You sit outside his locker room, a basket of food and drink in your lap, your heart fluttering in your chest. You and Beel were watching his brothers on the beach, his broad hands rubbing sunscreen into your skin. Beel walking you back to your room after a long night in the library holding your hand in his strong, sure grip. Saturday afternoons spent hopping from one cafe to the next sampling the sweets and drinks to both of your heart's content.

It grips your heart but slips away with the rise of the young morning moon.

When morning comes the night is nothing more than a few smudges in your mindscape. Yet, a light, sweet feeling stays with you. You found yourself smiling more around the redhead and gravitating to him during the day. He accepts you back with a friendly hug and a friendly ear.

He treats you no differently than you remember. It’s nice. Even if a part of your yearns to see how he treated you when you were more than friends.

You begin to get excited for when your head hits your pillow. The dreams become clearer and clearer each night. Some new pieces show up and fall into place as the weeks progress. You start seeing bits of your dreams in the day too. After-images of you hand in hand with him walking down the other side of the street. The taste of something sweet on your tongue or a familiar scent in your nose.

After one particularly vivid dream, you wake determined not to let the contents of this dream slip through your fingers. This time you dreamt of the kitchen, dirty bowls, and units scattered about the cluttered counters. You had been baking something, and failing miserably.

Sneaking down to the kitchens you pull out all the things you could remember. For some reason, this dream lit a fire in you, like it was the last piece of the puzzle to getting it all back. You don’t think, instead, you just let your body take control. You baked a cake.

Well, it was supposed to be a cake. The center was too spongy and collapsed inward while the sides were dark and cracked. The icing was badly blended and melting from the still-warm pastry. It was almost exactly like the one from your dream.

You stare at it waiting for some great revelation, but nothing comes. Great. Now what?

“I smell food.”

“Gods!” You jerk smacking your knee on your bar stool. Beel’s deep voice scaring you half to death. “Should put a bell on you.” You grin. Beel peeks his head through the door brows furrowed.

“This is familiar.” He walks in pulling up another chair to sit next to you.

“Ye?” You look back at him.

“Yes. This was our first kiss.” You drop your icing spoon. “You wanted to surprise me before a big game.” He put a finger through the thick black and purple icing and pops it in his mouth. “Ah- You forgot the bane extract...I had thought that perhaps you remembered.” The hope in his voice stung your chest.

Oh. You look down at the mess you made, whatever feelings of satisfaction are lost. “I thought I was forgetting something, but my dreams are all blurry.”

“Dreams?” Beel pauses reaching for a slice. “You dreamt of this?”

“Yes. Been dreaming about you a lot of late.” You flush. “Little things that are starting to build a bigger picture. I just had this dream of a cake and the urge to make one...so- here we are.” You wave your hand out over the messy kitchen. Sighing plopping your chin down on your palm. “Guess I can sleep on it a bit more huh?” You shoot him a quick wink and sad smile.

“Or just ask Belphie.” He shrugs, taking another large slice of the disaster. “Sounds like he’s been meddling.” That realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Damn, you could have slapped yourself. “I’m sure he meant well, but he shouldn’t force you if you don’t want to. I could tell him to stop.”

What! No! You shake your head. “No. I-I don’t mind it. Solomon has yet to figure anything out, and whatever your brother is doing seems to be helping a little.” Beelzebub said nothing to that and just continued to eat while you started the dishes.

“Do you want to end tonight like we did before?” He asks sometime later, half of the dishes now drip drying in the rack. His long arms box you in on either side holding on to the lip of the sink. His head dips low, his chin resting on the top of your head. Deep down you knew that you could leave at any time. His grip was loose and easily breakable, considerate as ever to your comforts.

You turn to face him, a soft look crosses his face. “And how did it end?” He grins moving closer. You would have to thank Belphie for his interference. Just, perhaps later. You doubted he would want to be in your dreams tonight.

[anonymousfiction211]

Give it time: ch3

A/N: I got in the flow and decided to write the last chapter anyway. Enjoy :)

Click here for chapter 1 Click here for chapter 2

Helping a ‘friend’ ‘Hey, (Y/N). You’re up early’ Steve greeted her, happy to see her without the egotistical God by her side.

‘Morning Steve’ she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. Something was wrong, he could tell.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. He was hoping that Loki would have slipped yesterday and that they had a fight. If they had broken up, it surely would make reaching his goal easier. He felt a little bad about manipulating her, it was not something he would normally do. But she was too oblivious to see that Loki is bad for her, she deservers better, much better.

‘Can we talk for a moment?’ she asked him.

‘Of course!’ he replied, he was growing anxious. Maybe Loki had said or done something to paint him in a bad light. He had to admit that it was extremely difficult to manipulate the God, or outsmart him. He followed her to the living room where they sat down on the couch. Steve immediately noticed the distance between them, which was larger than usual.

‘You know that Loki has some trouble with us hanging out. And last night it became worse. So, I think it is best to maybe keep some distance between us for some time. At least until Loki sees that there is nothing going on’ she told him.

‘(Y/N) if that’s what you really want, of course! I can’t say I will not miss you, but I never want to come between the two of you’ he replied, trying hard not to grit his teeth or to let the disdain of Loki show.

‘Yeah, I’ll miss you too. But I think I need some time to work on the relationship. We soon will be taking some time of to go away for a weekend. And after Loki is comfortable it all will go back to normal’ she smiled.

‘It’s always a good idea to work on your relationship. But if I can be honest, I am starting to grow a little concerned’ Steve replied, hoping to cause some doubt in her mind about the relationship.

‘Why?’ she asked.

‘Well, what if he never comes around? What if instead of working through his issues he just finds another guy to be jealous of? I mean, he is basically deciding who you can and can’t hang out with and I don’t think that is right. That shouldn’t happen in a healthy relationship. He has nothing to worry about, but what if one day there is a guy he should worry about? What will he do then?’ She explained.

Steve saw the wheels in her head turning. She probably would go through with the plan she had, but he knew in the back of her mind these words would linger. ‘Like I said, I don’t want to come between the two of you. But maybe something to watch out for’ he added, before it became too obvious what he was trying to do.

‘Eh.. yeah. Thanks for your concern, I’ll watch out’ she hesitantly replied, still deep in thought about his words.

‘But I have one favour the ask’ he said.

‘I actually have a date next week and I wanted to cook risotto. Your favourite if I’m not mistaking. And I was hoping I could practice tonight and you would eat with me? Tell me if it is any good?’ he asked.

‘Oh, ehm.. I don’t know with Loki..’ she started, but Steve interjected.

‘I know, but you know I can’t go to anyone else for this. Loki has to go on a mission anyway and will be gone. He never has to know! And after that you can work on your relationship. Please, I really need your help’ he whined putting on his best puppy-eyes.

He saw that she became uneasy, finding it hard to reject him. ‘Oh okay, but only if Loki is still gone and he doesn’t find out. It will be one of the last things we will do together for some time.’

‘Yes of course! Thank you so much (Y/N)’ Steve replied happily. All right, one down, one more to go he thought.

After the conversation she went off to work. They would meet at dinner time in the kitchen and eat there. Steve had already bought everything he needed for tonight. He would cook, reminisce and the two of you would drink some wine. Hopefully her guard would be down and then the tricky part. He had to plan his next move the moment Loki figured out what was really going on. Thinking of Loki, Steve needed to get him away from her for the rest of the day.

After waiting for a while Loki finally made it out of bed. Steve had to supress a grin when he saw how hung-over he was.

‘Good morning, Loki’ Steve said with a loud voice.

Loki flinched and really didn’t look happy to see Steve.

‘What do you want’ he grumbled while making some coffee for himself.

‘I have a mission for you’ Steve said.

‘What is it?’ Loki snapped.

‘We suspect that some of our opponents are using a form of magic we never encountered before. I was hoping you would go to the Sanctuary and find out everything about it. Since you are the one with the most knowledge about magic’ he explained, hoping to distract Loki with some flattery. Loki was intrigued and Steve started to tell him all he knew. It was true that there were rumours about this, but it was probably false. Anyway, it could wait months before they researched it but he needed Loki gone for today. He had figured that the best way to manipulate the God is not by lying, but by telling the truth and implying. That way Loki had a feeling he was lying, but could never be sure.

‘That is going to take all day…’ Loki grumbly replied when Steve was done talking.

‘I know, but it is important to know. Plus, maybe it would take your mind off things with (Y/N)’ he said.

That cleared Loki’s head and Steve knew he had to be careful know and do it exactly as rehearsed.

‘What do you mean?’ Loki growled at him.

‘Oh sorry, I thought she had told you’ he replied. Not a lie, he actually expected her to tell Loki about their dinner tonight.

‘We spoke this morning and I told her that I didn’t want to come between the two of you. But I invited her to dinner tonight. She probably didn’t tell you because she doesn’t want to worry you. I mean, it probably means nothing, but you know about our history’ he said. It was word for word the truth, maybe in the wrong order. But it implied a whole different story than what happened this morning.

Steve was startled when Loki grabbed him by his throat and pinned him to the wall behind him. For a moment he forgot that Loki, even tough he was good now, was still a very dangerous person if he was angered. Loki started to rant about all the ways he would kill him if he ever lay his eyes on her.

‘You know she would never forgive you if you killed me’ Steve reacted to Loki’s rant.

With a growl Loki let go of Steve’s throat. ‘Look, if you want you can confront her. Just come by tonight’ Steve said.

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. Probably trying to figure out what game Steve is playing. This was not something Loki saw coming.

‘FINE’ he growled. ‘I see the two of you at six’ he angrily added.

‘Actually, it would be better if you were here at seven’ Steve replied. Carefully picking his words, trying not to reveal the fact that she would be here at six.

At dinner Steve had cooked and she arrived right on time. He had only an hour before Loki would be back and storm inside. He needed to execute his plan right before he could, otherwise she would find out about his manipulation. He was smart enough to have a camera in the hallway which he monitored from his mobile phone. Giving him a head start when Loki would arrive. Currently he was focusing on her telling stories. The two of them were laughing and drinking. After about half an hour he was reminiscing about the past, dropping subtle hints about their last date.

He was still slapping himself mentally for not giving her a chance then. When he finally saw how amazing she was, she just started to date Loki. The thought angered Steve, but after tonight he would have time to win her over. And he was not going to let her go, it would be the best for everyone involved. Even though his methods were questionable, it was the right thing to do.

Every time her wine glass was empty he filled it back up again. He needed her reaction time to slow down and needer her off guard. Five minutes before seven he saw Loki angrily walking through the lobby. So, Steve said his plan in motion.

‘(Y/N) if you don’t mind I need your help some more’ he started. He scooched closer against her and grabbed her hand. He looked into her eyes and met her half-drunk gaze. The door swung open, he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her. With one eye open he saw the hurt expression on Loki’s face. For a split-second Loki froze, before storming away. (Y/N) pushed herself away from Steve.

‘What the hell?’ she yelled.

‘I’m sorry. It’s just I really wanted to kiss her and my last kiss was you. So, I wanted to know, you know what to do’ Steve quickly explained.

He saw her angry expression, he needed to distract her. He needed her heartbroken so he could be there for her. ‘I think Loki just saw us’ he said.

He watched her expression change from anger to shock. She quickly stood up and ran towards Loki’s bedroom. Steve slowly walked after her. He heard her call Loki’s name, it sounded like she was crying. It broke his heart, but it needed to be done. She needed to be free of him. He walked into the bedroom to saw her pace around frantically with a note in her hand. She was still crying. He took the note from her.

I can’t believe I ever trusted you

Steve had to supress an eye-roll. Loki was always too dramatic for his taste. Both of their head turned towards the yard when they heard a familiar sound. She ran past Steve to the yard and he followed her again. When he caught up with her she was sitting on her knees in the middle of the burned grass. Steve immediately recognized the pattern. Loki had taken the Bifrost and was gone, just like Steve expected that he would. He slowly walked beside her and sat down on his knees too.

‘I’m so sorry (Y/N). I never meant for this to happen! As soon as I can, I will talk to Thor and tell him about what happened’ Steve started to comfort her. He pulled her closer against his chest, she was still sobbing. She was so wrapped up in her pain that she couldn’t see what was really going on. Steve meant what he said. As soon as Thor would be back he would explain himself, knowing that Thor was probably livid with Steve after hearing Loki’s version of events. But Thor wouldn’t be in Asgard for another three months, so he would be back here in about four months. Which gave Steve four months to make (Y/N) forget about Loki and to start dating her. He would make Loki the bad guy in the story, after she believes him Thor would too. Then Loki would just look like the jealous ex-boyfriend. Making Loki the bad guy isn’t that hard, he is the God of Lies after all he thought while comforting (Y/N). They sat like that for a while. And Steve couldn’t help but feel relieved that Loki was far away, while she was in his arms.

Permanent tag list: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @theaudacitytowrite @pescadoavocado @theestorm​

[pynkhues]

57 for the sensory prompts 💖

Ooo, I love this one, anon, thank you! I'm assuming you wanted Good Girls, so I'm sorry if you were after something else!

This is set in a vague, speculative post-4.16 world. :-)

-

57 rain on a metal roof

It’s the promise of rain more than the actuality of it that greets them at the house.

The thick, damp blanket of air weighing down on them as they climb out of his G Wagon and start towards the dilapidated building, gravel crunching beneath the soles of his boots and the heel of her pumps, and god, she should’ve worn something more practical. Would’ve, if he’d told her where they were going.

It's been almost a year since she’s even been here, since she pulled up in her minivan, Max a ball of anxious energy in the seat beside her, the gun too close, wrapped in an old hand towel and buried beneath loose tampons and old receipts in the belly of her purse. A year since she’d past on Rio’s lessons to him – a second-hand class in how to load, hold, shoot a gun that still didn’t feel right in her own grip – but she’s held guns since then.

She just hasn’t shot one.

Not since - -

Well.

Her gaze darts sideways to where Rio’s a few steps ahead, beanie pulled low over his ears and hands buried deep in his pockets to ward off the late fall chill. He doesn’t look right here somehow, not as he passes the weather-worn picnic table and not as his narrow body becomes a cut of darkness against the faded white walls of the bullet riddled house. She’s used to him these days in sleeker joints – at one of his bars, at the Country Club, at restaurants that don’t list prices – places that almost move like him; both effortless and tireless at the same time.

(That cool, like - - disaffected, kiss-you-kill-you vibe is totally fake, Annie had told her a few weeks ago while they’d cleaned up at Sweet P’s. Nobody who’s actually cool would be this hung up on you. No offense.)

The thought makes Beth snort, sniff, a cold drop of rain suddenly hitting her cheek, and she wraps her arms tighter around herself, trying to match Rio’s long stride as he gets to the house, rattling open the door and disappearing inside. Vaguely, the thought finds her that maybe she’s wrong. Maybe Annie is.

Maybe the kiss-you-kill-you vibe is exactly who Rio is, maybe he chose his brother-cousin after all, maybe last night, whatever it was, had been a lie.

(But god, it hadn’t felt like it, not with the way he’d touched her, the way he’d pulled her close, held her there against him until the sharp angles of his body left indents in the soft curves of hers; the way he’d moved inside her so deep and slow she was babbling, keening, scrambling at his back desperate for him to go faster, but he hadn’t. Like he’d wanted them both to feel every moment. A film slowed until you could see every frame).

She hadn’t expected it.

Not after she’d closed in on Nick. Not after she’d gotten enough to Phoebe and Dave to have him put away, handcuffed in his City Council office, his eyes wet in a way Rio’s never got, like he couldn’t handle his own façade slipping even after spending months trying to make Beth’s, a lifetime maybe, of trying to make Rio’s.

Still, it hadn’t taken long for Nick’s wobbly lower lip to stiffen and his arrest had lasted only as long as any of Rio’s – a flash in the pan of success – and Rio had come to her house and she’d thought maybe it was over, maybe this was it for her, only he’d kissed her, and it had felt like a new page in a book she hadn’t realised she’d missed.

“You comin’, Elizabeth?”

And right, Beth thinks, sniffing, eyeing off the dark doorway, before glancing backwards at the thick grey sky, the first spit of rain, the dry grass and tangled, crunching trees waiting for it, and she steps inside.

There’s not much to it really – cobwebs and rat shit, a few broken items of dust-coated furniture – a table slanted awkward with a missing leg, moth-eaten curtains bundled on the floor, a few beer bottles with ash broken apart in the dregs. If Rio cares, he doesn’t show it, grabbing the table instead to leverage up enough against the wall that it stands, before swinging his bag off his shoulder onto the top of it. He pulls out two guns, a clip, alcohol wipes for fingerprints.

“He might not come after me,” Beth tells him, and Rio doesn’t even turn around. The wind outside whistles through the bullet holes in the walls, and Beth shivers when a particularly damp breeze finds the back of her neck. “We were pretty publicly connected, he might just want - - ”

“You wanna risk that?” he drawls, hands making quick, neat work on loading the gun. “Ain’t got that husband of yours to take the bullet for you this time.”

Beth’s jaw clicks shut.

The memory finds her. The fingers Rio’s now using to test the trigger instead tracing her chin, Dean in front of her, tied to a chair, the look of betrayal naked on his face, Rio unloading the gun just once. The way he’d slumped forwards.

Rio had staggered backwards.

She inhales, the musty smell of the room darting up her nose.

He’s right though. Dean’s long gone, but - -

Her heart flutters.

“Should I be worried about my kids?”

(They’d stayed at Annie’s the night before, the night of the arrest, playing Mario Kart with Ben and eating too much candy. Annie hadn’t asked questions when Beth had asked if she could keep them one more night, but she knew that only meant the kids were close. The questions would come when Annie could speak freely).

“Not his style.”

“But you think a mother of four is.”

It’s the first thing she’s said since the car that’s made Rio look at her, actually look at her, and she finds herself more annoyed than anything when he greets her with a bemused, slightly exasperated look, as if to say - - well.

As if to say a lot of things.

Beth rolls her eyes, and Rio exhales a laugh, shakes his head, before starting back across the room towards her.

“I don’t know,” he says. “This is new land for all of us, darlin’. Nick ain’t ever been the one in the cell, and you and me - - ”

She waits, unsure of what he’s going to say, and his mouth does that funny thing it does, and he shrugs, a warm look on his face.

“Ain’t ever woken up together after, huh?”

Beth flushes, and Rio offers her the handle of the gun. It takes her a minute, gaze darting up to him, surprised by the ease in the offer, the openness of his dark eyes, and it’s only then that she hears the rain in full. The ricochet off the tiled roof, the thrum of it, the way the air seems to gasp in relief – no longer pregnant. She thinks her hair is frizzy. She thinks Rio’s nose is red, his eyes tired. She thinks she lets her fingers brush his when she takes the gun. She thinks she wants to kiss him again.

From the way his gaze holds on her lips, she thinks he wants to too.

But he doesn’t. Not yet. Now, he takes a step back, and he says:

“Now, show me what you remember.”

Send me a sensory prompt (Good Girls, The Umbrella Academy or Succession)

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- I hate these moodboards sm)

Masterlist. Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- Angst, medical emergency, sexual tension

Chapter 3 Taking Blame

One month later After they'd gotten engaged, Keanu had been politely adamant in insisting that Miranda get to know Matt and Poppy better; take them out, spend time with them after their tutors left for the day and drive them to swim and ballet occasionally. As expected, she'd been reluctant, and even when Miranda did begrudgingly agree, Emma had been asked, or rather persistently urged, to join her. Of course, Miranda had dismissed Keanu when he protested that the entire purpose of her taking them was to spend time with the twins alone, arguing insistently that it was Emma's job to take care of them.

That had been nearly a month ago, and after one trip to the mall, two swim meets, three weekly ballet practices, spent with Emma trailing three paces behind Miranda, holding the children's hands along with whatever bags they had, Miranda had finally agreed to watch the children on her own and Keanu had let Emma have some time off.

Using her time liberally, Emma had gone to lunch with a couple old college friends, and then for a few drinks after. It was past seven when she finally returned, and from the minute she walked through the side door from Keanu's huge garage, the strong aroma of baked goods washed her senses, peaking Emma's curiosity, drawing her towards the kitchen. She didn't think Zelda had stayed that late.

Much to her surprise though, it wasn't the older woman in the kitchen, instead, it was Miranda standing amid the mess, a tray of grayish brownish cookies laid out on the the breakfast bar, dressed casually in white lounge pants and loose lace blouse, some of her hair pined away from her face. Surrounding the tray, was an assortment of ingredients, most of them looking like they'd been bought at a high end organic food shop. "Miranda?" Emma said slowly, beckoning the older woman's attention.

"Emily!" She spun on the absent heel of her ballet pump, and Emma gnawed on her lip to quell her annoyance. It was still extremely irritating when Miranda got her name wrong, but she'd given up on correcting her, deciding that she was more than likely doing it on purpose. "You're home, finally. Zora left….." she trailed off, waving her hand dismissively, "Some time ago, but thankfully you're here to clean up. Try one, they're peanut butter cookies. Totally organic," she shoved the tray closer to Emma.

"Okay," she cringed, wondering how bad organic desserts could be. She'd heard the stories, how they tasted like cardboard, grass and other things that most people wouldn't readily put in their mouths. Miranda stared at her intently, clearly waiting for Emma to take a bite and so, deciding that a cardboard cookie might be easier to endure than her boss's fiancée whining, she nibbled to the edge, just enough to get a taste. Eyes widening in surprise, she went in for a bigger bite, humming at the surprisingly good taste, "This is actually……"

"It's good right? Apparently Keanu thinks you baking is the gold standard or whatever," and once again, Emma wasn't sure if Miranda's compliment was actually a compliment.

Stammering, she just nodded, "It is good, you made them for the kids, do they like them?"

"Mhm!" With a triumphant grin, Miranda started walking out of the kitchen, reaching the mouth of the hall, "They’re in the playroom, and since you're here you can take over now!"

Not even bothering to respond, Emma just shook her head, shrugging off her leather jacket, draping it over a chair at the kitchen table, knowing the sooner she got to work, the better. The first thing she did was start clearing the remaining ingredients from the counter, barely glancing at names and labels until something caught her eye, "Miranda!" Emma yelled, panicked, not caring how upset she'd get, "Miranda!"

Seconds later, she came hustling into the room, muttering about how rude and incompetent hired help could be. "What do you want now?" She spoke through gritted teeth.

"Did you put this in the cookies?" Hastily, she held up a bag half filled with wheat flour, the plastic packing clutched tightly in her fist. Her heart was probably beating a mile as Emma anticipated a response.

"Yeah," Miranda scrunched her nose, still upset by Emma's scolding tone, "So what, it's good-"

"Didn't you read the list?" Already she was dropping the flour, not caring if it spilled, making a bigger mess than before, lunging for her handbag and rummaging for her keys, "Matty, Pop!"

"What list?"

"The fucking allergy list!" Emma sneered, too jolted to stop and worry about Mirada's precious feelings, "It's right there on the fridge,” she pointed hurriedly, and just as she was about to call for the kids again, Matt came running into the room, his face pulled with fright.

“Emma!” He ran past Miranda and straight for her, grabbing her thigh to get Emma's attention, “Come quick, something’s wrong with Poppy! She started coughing and-” He was on the verge of tears and there was an anxious bounce in his stance.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay,” Emma quickly kissed his hair, standing again to go get Poppy, “Everything’s gonna be okay, but I need you to be a big boy and wait by the car for me,” after that mishap, there was absolutely no way in hell that Emma was leaving Matt alone with Miranda, not when she was pretty sure she had a case of anaphylaxis on her hands, “I’m gonna go get Pop, okay?”

Nodding he ran off, and Emma went in the other direction, choking a sob when she reached the playroom, finding Poppy on the floor, gasping for breath, angry red patches on her skin. Without thinking twice, her instincts took over and she scooped the girl up in her arms, laying her head on her shoulder. Cradling Poppy’s head, she ran out to the garage, almost slipping on the tiles in the process, “It’s gonna be okay baby, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?” Tears were hot on her cheeks, but Emma knew that she had other things to worry about, her own emotions could be seen to after.

“What should I do?” Miranda came to stand beside her, wringing her hands as Emma got Matt into the car seat. “I swear I didn’t know that she was allergic-”

“Look I don’t have time for this,” not even realizing that she wasn’t wearing a jacket, Emma was already in the driver’s seat, getting the posh SUV started. Ideally, she should have taken Miranda with her to keep a check on Poppy while they drove to the nearest hospital, but she couldn’t bring herself to deal with the woman while she was also trying to keep Matt calm and his sister alive. Not without starting a fight at least. “Just call Keanu, lock up the house and then meet us at the hospital.”

The automatic door started reeling upwards, and Emma was backing out, “Are you sure I can’t-”

“You’ve done enough Miranda,” She backed out, “We’ll be at L.A General,” and with that, Emma backed into the street, shifting gears and then speeding off, hoping that she’d get to the E.R before it was too late.

Curled up next to Emma in the pale green sofa of the pediatric waiting room, was Matt, fast asleep. It was just past eight, and if they were at home, she knew he’d still be bouncing off walls, nowhere near ready for bedtime, but Emma had passed his tire off as a consequence of the hustle and trauma, it was certainly enough to have her eyes heavy. But Emma couldn’t sleep, not when the doctors hadn't yet come to update her on Poppy’s condition. By then, in just about an hour, she cried, hyperventilated quietly and almost screamed several times. All she could think of was how Poppy having that life threatening reaction was all her fault. She shouldn’t have left Miranda alone with them, she should have told her to read the list, checked on them instead of stalling in the kitchen. Something, anything.

Sitting across from her, on one of the single seats was Miranda herself, worried, though not half as frenzied as Emma. Maybe she was just good at keeping it at bay. They hadn’t spoken since she’d gotten there, instead, Miranda had opted to anxiously flip through magazines provided while Emma had struggled through trying to get Matt to have a sandwich from the cafeteria and a little carton of milk for dinner, almost losing her mind when he fought her, but eventually getting him to have some of it. And like she couldn’t bare to sleep, she was also too sick to her stomach with guilt to eat.

Her thoughts had left her sinking, and when Matt had succumbed to slumber, Emma had let the rest of the room fade to nothing, one mantra playing on loop in her mind, ‘just let that sweet little girl be okay.’ Keanu had been unreachable, so they'd left several voicemails, and Emma vaguely remembered that he’d mentioned that he had a meeting about a movie he'd worked on as a producer and then another with his agent, though, when he came though the white double doors, motorcycle helmet in hand, his eyes were red, his hair a mess there was an urgency in this long strides. “What the hell happened?” Were the first words that tumbled out of his mouth as he looked between Emma and Miranda, who both stood at his entrance.

Immediately, Miranda rushed to his side, sinking into his side and letting his arm go around her waist. Before Emma could process his question, Miranda was the one speaking, “I have no idea,” she shot Emma an unreadable look, though at the last second, there was devilish glimmer in her green eyes, “Emma came home and made them snacks, and next thing I know Poppy’s having a reaction.” Figures that out of all times, Miranda would remember her name, it would be then.

Her jaw hung slack and for the longest minute, Emma was at a complete loss for words. Though, her mind came up with a long list of the things she wanted to say, what the fuck? Being at the very top. “I….” She stuttered, wanting to instantly clear her name. But then, in a rush, Zelda’s words came back to her, Miranda always gets what she wants and stay out of her way. “I…” Even if she did tell the truth, Miranda was Keanu’s fiancée, who would he believe anyway? The hired help or the woman who he wanted to be the mother of his children. Emma was pretty sure she already knew the answer, best not to fight it, especially since she was clearly already on Miranda’s bad side. “I’m sorry,” fighting tears was hard, and the anger that heated up Keanu’s face was frightening, “I didn’t mean to- to- I just-”

Cutting off her stammering, moving his hand from Miranda’s waist, tossing his helmet to a chair and finally running both his hands through his hair. “How could you be so careless?” He hissed loud and venomously, “You could have killed my daughter,” the only reason he wasn’t full on yelling was because Matt was sleeping nearby, but Emma could tell that it was barely holding Keanu back and the low tone didn’t make his words sting less. “There’s a list for a reason, you know that. But now, my daughter is in the hospital because you were careless! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I am so, so sorry Keanu,” hot tears streamed down her face, from tired burning eyes. Her hiccupped breaths made Emma feel like a child being scolded at recess and all she wanted to do was have a fissure in the floor open up and swallow her. “I would never hurt Poppy, not intentionally, and I swear, as soon as it happened-”

“She came and told me,” Miranda interjected, intent on only making the situation worse, a hint of a smirk threatening to twist her lips, “And I told her that she had to take the children to the hospital immediately. Poppy could have died, for God’s sakes!”

A strangled sob threatened to wake Matt, and Emma had to clasp her hand over her mouth. How could someone be so outrightly vicious, going as far as shoving the blame on another person. “Maybe hiring you was a mistake,” Keanu determined, and Emma’s eyes went wide, definitely not prepared for what came next, “Maybe we need to reconsider you as their nanny.”

“What?” Emma swallowed thickly, that couldn't be it. From the minute they met she knew that Miranda hadn’t liked her, but fired? Never seeing the twins again or Keanu, she didn’t think it would go that far. “Please don’t-”

“I think you’ve said enough,” Keanu raised his hand, motioning for Emma to stop, passing it over his face before turning away.

Emma needed that job, and she adored those kids. Hell, she might have even been falling for Keanu, but she was not prepared to be humiliated even further. And maybe, if Miranda was going to be a permanent part of the Reeves household, it was better that she didn’t stick around. She could put up with a lot, but being someone for an entitled celebrity to cast undue blame on wasn’t one of them. Passive aggressive insults, snide remakes, being a bag holding mouse and walked all over, she could take. But being humiliated in public, for something she hadn’t done? Being treated like she was an inept child and not worthy of having an explanation or a chance to clear her name? That was where she drew the line.

“You know what Keanu,” Emma felt around her bag, eventually pulling out the keys for the SUV that she used to drive around the kids, “Miranda,” she hissed vehemently, “Maybe I should save you both some time,” finding a spot of courage, she strode up to him, Emma shoved the keys to Keanu’s chest, not caring if he got a hold of them or not, “Cause I quit.”

From the minute he held the keys in his grasp, feeling her fingers brush his and subsequently watching Emma walking out of the waiting room, Keanu knew he’d made a mistake. Emma couldn’t just leave, his children adored her, he…...well, he wasn’t too sure about what he felt for her, but he did know that he didn’t want to lose her. The whole firing quip had been an empty threat, fueled by stress and anger. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “Mandy, you stay here,” he started walking off, hoping to catch Emma before she could leave the hospital.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed his bicep, “You can’t just leave me here with him,” Miranda gestured to Matt, still curled up sleeping, not knowing that the nanny that he’d started looking up to had just walked out on them, and it was all his father’s fault. “Besides,” she reasoned, tone even and cool, “If she wants to leave, you should let her. She’s lazy and irresponsible.”

“Wha- no,” Keanu shook off Miranda's grip and by extension, her words, “Emma is not lazy, she works her ass off for my kids, and irresponsible? It was a mistake,” in an instant, his mind was changing and Keanu was regretting the way he’d handled things with Emma. She was obviously devastated knowing that she’d put Poppy at risk, and he had just made it worse, “Allergies happen, she has to learn. And I do too. I'm sorry,” he began the walk to the doors, “But I have to go find her.”

Keanu hadn’t meant for things to go awry, or to force Emma to quit, but he had just been so upset; worry and fear morphing into anger, causing him to lash out. In her three months with their family, that was the first time that she’d made any sort of mistake. Emma had probably committed the list memory and believing that she could make such a careless mistake was becoming increasingly hard. It just didn’t make sense. Emma treated his kids like they were her own, and that was only one of the many reasons why Keanu couldn’t lose her.

Thankfully though, he was able to catch up to her just as she was headed for the curb, arms wrapped around herself to combat the night’s chill, her sleeveless cotton shirt, with a little knot over her navel not really doing her any favors. “Em!” He jogged up to her, speeding up when she walked faster, “Emma, please, just wait.”

“What?” She turned, olive cheeks tear stained and taking on a reddish tint, illuminated by the street laps lining the parking lot, rage and hurt intermingling, “What do you want?” She heaved, and Keanu hated that he’d made her cry. She didn’t deserve to cry, she didn’t deserve anything he’s given her back there. Emma was a marvelous person, who was exceptional at her job.

“I’m sorry,” Keanu breathed, shaking his head, stepping closer, “You’re the best nanny Matt and Poppy have ever had; they love you, they listen to you and they’d miss you a damn lot if you left. I’d miss you,” his features softened, his eyes pleading, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you like that, I wasn’t even there and mistakes happen. I know that you wouldn’t put either of my kids in danger,” he slumped his shoulders, and Emma looked away, swiping at her eyes. She was fighting shivers too, Keanu could see it; it had rained earlier that day, and a distinct dampness along with an uncharacteristic chill still hung in the air. Not thinking much of it, just not wanting her to catch a cold, Keanu shrugged off his riding jacket, stepping closer and reaching around Emma to drape it over her slender shoulders, taking the opportunity to grip them after, “Please don’t leave us Em. I'm begging you.”

“I’ll stay,” she clenched her jaw, wiggling out of Keanu’s grip, “But not for you, I’m staying for those kids. And next time you want to accuse me of trying to kill one of your children, maybe you should dig a little deeper first."

“What?” Knitting his brows, Keanu watched as she started towards the hospital’s entrance, his coat swallowing up her frame, not even offering one backwards glass before going through the automatic doors.

Three Days Later The house had been exceptionally quiet since they’d returned from the hospital, Keanu had asked Emma to tell the tutors to take the rest of the week off, and Poppy had been recovering with her brother almost constantly at her side. The doctor warned them that Poppy’s allergy to wheat could have been deadly if they hadn’t gotten there sooner, and when Keanu had hugged Miranda in relief, while Emma was still wearing his jacket, she had to pretend it didn’t sting.

As a direct, though relieving side effect though, Miranda had been actively avoiding her, and Emma could tell that Keanu was too. That was, until late one evening, after Emma had put the kids down for an early bedtime and had resigned to her own room, getting into comfortable shorts and a loose camisole after her hot shower, deciding that a glass of wine and a movie on her laptop would be the perfect end to an easy Friday. The knock on her door and been soft, lacking urgency, and when she pulled it open, seeing Keanu on the other side, she was actually surprised, “Keanu?”

“Hey,” he smiled sheepishly, dressed like he’d just come home, still in his jacket and everything. The same one he’d lent her back at the hospital. She wondered if he’d washed it, or if he had let the fading scent of her favorite perfume linger against his skin.

Before he spoke again, Keanu faltered, almost losing himself as he drank her in, tiny cotton shorts boasting her smooth, toned legs, the fabric of her top stretched across her chest and Emma's long, drying tresses swept over one shoulder, leaving the slender column of her neck exposed. A wedding band that hung on a thin gold necklace settled against her skin, Keanu knew it was her father's, she'd mentioned when he asked if it belonged to someone else, someone like a husband. Remembering himself, Keanu took in a breath, trying to pull himself out of the trance that he'd fallen into, “Can I come in?”

Nodding, Emma stepped back, pulling the door open a little more, “Your house, your bedroom,” she tried to return his smile, still feeling the tension between them, not sure if it was a good tense or a bad one.

“It’s your room,” Keanu countered, serious, though not harsh, “As long as you’re here with us, its your home too, and your room.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he bent his head, dark mane curtaining his handsome face, smile fading. “I think I owe you an apology,” he shuffled his feet awkwardly, “No, I know I owe you an apology.”

“Keanu-” Emma tried to stop him, though he cut her off, not the way he had the last time, that night, it was softer, as he pleaded with her to just hear him out.

“I really need to say this,” Keanu raised his head, his whiskey gaze meeting her hazel orbs, and he tentatively toed a step closer, “What I said the other night at the hospital, I was way out of line,” he sighed, going slow so so he wouldn’t fumble over his words, “What I’m trying to say now is; I know it wasn’t you that caused the reaction.”

“What?” Baffled, and immensely relieved, Emma felt a mountain of stress that she hadn’t known was there, rolling off her shoulders, “How?”

Chuckling dryly, Keanu shook his head, moistening his lips, “When I came home, and saw those cookies, I knew it couldn’t have been you. I mean, you bake, but not with organic peanut butter and almond milk. I had my suspicions back at the hospital, you probably know that list better than the back of your hand,” he raked his nails through his beard, “And then I asked Matt, and he told me that it was Miranda that made the cookies. So I'm really, really sorry, about all of that.”

“Oh,” the soft exhale left Emma’s parted lips, and truly, she couldn’t believe that she was actually getting an apology from her boss. Not sure of how to proceed, she gnawed on her lip for a second, “What’re you gonna do?”

Huffing, Keanu smirked, “Nothing. Knowing Mandy, she’d just deny it anyway. Besides, it was an accident,” If Emma wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn he sounded a little bitter.

“Thank you,” Emma smiled, happy when Keanu returned the gesture, “I know you didn’t have to apologize, but it means a lot to me that you did.”

“Uh, yeah,” grinning breathlessly, they lingered like that for a moment, until the air grew flustered, and Keanu noticed her wine glass on the nightstand and computer on the made bed, mumbling about how he should get out of her hair.

Though, when he was on his way out of Emma’s room, he absently grabbed his right shoulder, rubbing and rolling the joint, “You okay?” She halted him, “That looks like it hurts.”

“Yeah,” he winced, trying to downplay it, even if Emma could see right through his façade, “Went to the gym this morning, now I’m starting to think that my trainer was right when she said I’ve stayed away for too long. Nothing to worry about though, just a little sore.”

“Maybe I can help,” she had no idea where the suggestion came from, or why she hadn’t tried harder to keep it inside, but there was really no going back anyway. Clearing her throat, Emma blushed, “Why don’t you take off your jacket, and sit on the bed?”

Just as flustered, Keanu inhaled deeply, wanting to oblige, but not sure if he should, “You don’t have to-”

“I want too,” taking initiative, Emma approached him, leaning up on her toes, her eye line barely meeting the back of his neck as she urged his jacket off, folding it in half and draping it over the arm of an accent chair. His biceps strained against the sleeves and Emma swallowed the little flirtatious comment that sat at the tip of her tongue. “Sit, please. I insist.”

Nodding, Keanu went over to bed, sitting on the edge as instructed and then watching intently as Emma crawled up behind him. Her bare knees grazed him as she adjusted herself, and it wasn’t long before he felt her small hands on his shoulders, kneading slowly. Her fingers applied the perfect amount of pressure, and when she rubbed the base of her palms over them, the sensation was close to orgasmic, “Shit, Em…..” Keanu groaned, feeling the tension start dribbling away, “That is…..amazing.”

Giggling musically, she just carried on. The muscles beneath his t-shirt were far firmer than what she expected from someone his age, and touching him like that, seemed more intimate than Emma had intended. “That’s good, cause you are so tense. You’ve gotta take it easy Keanu,” she chuckled.

“I know, its just….I’ve got a lot on my plate,” he voice dropped lower as he closed his eyes, submitting to the pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d let someone take care of him like that, since someone even offered to take care of him like that, and not even Miranda’s touch felt that way, so warm and soothing. Keanu would be lying if he said he was okay with it ending. “I’m just glad I have you though.”

“Oh?” Emma slowed down, leaning forward so her unrestrained breasts were pressed against Keanu’s back when her face reached the side of his. By the time he turned to face her, their lips were a mere inch apart, and it wouldn’t have taken much for her to just kiss him. “Well I’m glad I’m here for you,” she whispered, her hot breath fanning his face.

“I need to ask you something,” Emma could have sworn that Keanu was leaning in, and his eyes searched hers, longing reflected.

Mesmerized, Emma barely registered his words, only anticipating what she thought might come next, “Okay.”

“I uh….” his gaze fell on her perfect, plump lips, “I was just wondering, would you go to Paris with me?” Her heart leapt and while it wasn’t the question she’d been hoping for, Emma was already excited, “With me and the kids I mean.” Suddenly, as fast as it was created, the moment was gone, and embarrassed, Emma pulled away, trying to refocus her attention of Keanu’s stiff shoulders, “I have to be there by next month for a premiere, and since I’m gonna be spending my birthday there, I thought I’d take Matt and Poppy too. Obviously, if you have other obligations here, I wouldn’t want you to leave them.”

Disappointed and confused, Emma’s response was void of enthusiasm, “No, no I don’t,” swallowing tightly, she tried not to cry, hoping her shame wasn’t audible, “I’d love to go, part of the job, right?”

Keanu took a minute before he responded, though, when he did, his somber tone seemed to reflected hers, “Yeah, I guess so.”

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME -11 |N.Y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, explanatory mention of a pistol!

words :: ~5k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

“  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: @kpop-choco​ @moon-yuta​ @kawaiiayasan​ @btm-taeyong​ @exfolitae​ @lanadreamie​ @cheersskznct​ @hyuckiesgf​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​ @suhweo @minejungwoo​ @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​ @ro2424​ @itlittlefangirl​​ @nctzens-world​​ @bl--ankhaeji​​ @simplybree​​

 networks :: @kafenetwork​ @neowritingsnet​  @nct-writers​

K.M masterlist

K.M 10     next

a/n :: header was made with detailed instructions from lovely @cirrus-lily​ (thank you so much for your patience).

Previous night , taeyong’s office.

The thick, heavy unnatural silence was breached by the phone call. Taeil’s muffled words didn’t reach anyone’s ears but taeyong’s reaction was enough for an estimate!

“what did taeil say?”

Taeyong glanced at yuta’s hopeful yet helpless face. Taeil's order was far from what yuta's eyes sought. The past ten minutes were spent listening to the unsynchronized ticking of the clocks and some random whispering of the younger ones from the living room. And now, several pairs of eyes were asking for the answers.

“you will be stationed in nice, f-for two months.”

Yuta’s face hardened at his words. He gulped and opened his mouth to say something but stopped. The words stuck on his tongue would not be able to convey what he wanted to, he thought.

“with johnny?" Jaehyun uttered.

“no yuta is replacing him" taeyong mumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

Yuta snickered , “ as expected.” as much as he didnt want to sound bitter, his senses were not cooperating with him too much.

“this is not about you or johnny. It’s better if you both stay away fr-

“did taeil tell her the truth?” yuta coldly cut him off.

“i don't know about that!"

“then I'll have to do it myself." Yuta stood up, alerting everyone.

“do not stretch this yuta. This can end right here. Your absence woul-

“you got it wrong taeyong!” yuta cackled , “I'm dying to leave this place but don't you think she deserves to know that she's wrong here.”

“please yuta. For last time. trust taeil. this is the last thing I’m asking from you. You’d get the chance to explain. Ju-just not yet.” Yuta scowled at taeyong’s hollow pleading.

He inched forward slamming his palms on the table , “ since when did you start playing with wrong players taeyong? you are supposed to be the smarter one here. Who are you fooling here? you think I don’t know why she’s here or jaemin, jeno, jungwoo, chenle, jisung, mark, they don’t have a hint?” taeyong eyes danced around the room avoiding any contact as yuta continued, “Don't stretch this taeyong. this can end right here. without hurting another one and right before they can get attached. I hope when i come back , you would have sorted this mess out or you won’t have time to regret this time”

Scoffing at taeyong’s hunched figure, he smacked the table once before leaving the room.

Doyoung  followed soon , leaving Jaehyun and Taeyong alone.

Panic engulfed jaehyun’s entire being as he pondered over yuta’s words.

“he’s right. You saw her today. She’s getting worked up over a stupid misunderstanding and you saw the way taeil is acting! This was never the plan. She’s not timid. You cannot possibly make her agree to anything at all. Taeil would never let that happen. Heck! Yuta’s getting weirder these days. Let her go. We can wait unt-

“We. Can’t .wait. I know my limits, Jaehyun and two months are enough..” Taeyong whisper yelled “ I care about her more than you’d ever do so get the fuck out of here. You don't get to tell me what I should be doing.”

Jaehyun leered at the older man, muscles in his jaw twitching at his words  “you have lost it taeyong. if we fail this time, you’d be the one to blame.”

Perfectly ironed shirts were wrinkled as yuta threw them into the case. doyoung was ready to accompany but he refused all the assistance proposed to him. He left nothing. from t-shirts and pants to jumpers, he packed as if he was going for a one way trip to france.

He groaned , jumping on the suitcase, trying to bury the clothes deeper into the case so he could zip it. Once finished,he pushed the cases out of the room and into the hall. locking the door, his running and hurried eyes fell on the opposite room. It was bare of any presence. This was his first time peeking into your room. He was merely looking from afar but the very next second he found himself going through the album resting on the bed covers. a perfect normal photo album was calming enough to subside his inner turmoil.  

yuta scrunched his nose at the small girl who was either frowning or crying in most of the pictures. the family of three looked quite happy. But the girl didn't seem to resemble any of the adults. He almost let out a laugh at your wailing form in every other photo. Just looking at the pictures, anyone with two eyes could tell that you were a spoiled kid. No wonder you were full of attitude and ego, he thought.

closing it, he glanced at the room, simple and plain. Not that his own wasn’t but he couldn’t find anything that had prompted you to lock your door for the whole day. He left the room to lock his own but when he pocketed his keys, they met with something at the end of his pants pocket.

A grunt left his throat at the sight of the screws. He had placed them in his pocket to follow your fuming body, the reason of which he didn’t know back then. He was about to throw them on the bed when the album caught his eyes again. He cursed at himself for being so indecisive. Pacing back and forth , he noticed how composed he had suddenly become. He wasn’t feeling anger, just some traces of irritation for the whole drama that had unfolded.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he took a paper from your desk, scribbled with a trembling hand and left it on the counter.

All while hoping taeil was actually being reasonable , just this once.

12:30 p.m

Looking through the power window, you stared at taeil’s arriving form, hands full with brown food bags. He hit the car door with his one knee prompting you to open the door from inside.

“when I say you are no better than others ,I really mean you are NO better than them!” taeil chortled as he shoved a bag into your lap.

“what did I do this time?” you rolled your eyes as you anticipated another moral lecture from him.

“nothing. you are making an old man to get food for you!”

“and I had suggested the said old man to enter the drive thru!”

“and drive thru is no fun, duh! The vintage the better!”

“just like someone I know! you exclaimed chewing the burger.

“very funny. You know highway stops are all about breathing in fresh air while stretching your arms, yawning so widely that you have to hide your face in your stretched arm to save yourself from the embarrassment. The first step out of the car after hours of driving feels like restoration of something that was denied to you for such a long time. and the second phase of happiness comes at the engine purring, the feeling is like no other, I’m telling you. but someone lost their chance to experience it .”

“you sound poetic taeil but you lack facts. The fresh air you just inhaled is what we consider a polluted one.I’ll prefer to sit inside and miss all that instead of going out and dying. So let go of the  fancy peace thoughts and develop your perceptions according to the changing world. The sound of this vintage engine is a source of headache and not happiness.Now lemme eat. IN PEACE”

“we’ll see whose perception changes” taeil mumbled munching on the fries.

You both ate in silence for 20 minutes. As the drive continued ,the stilled milieu took you back to the uncertainties you were trying so hard to suppress. When taeil had knocked at the door in the morning, which was beyond expectation at first, he gave you the liberty to question his actions but you had passed that opportunity, precisely to show that you weren’t that greedy. But you were! The endless queries were now making you anxious. Why did taeil come with you? what was the reason behind his pleasant behaviour, how could yuta agree to go like that? sure he liked your presence not more than you did but was he the kind to bow down so easily! Or was he designing something under the colour of acceptance. taken together ,you ended up being the ruthless one here. But the leading one was why did yesterday happen! Multiple stolen glances at Taeil were fairly noticeable; you were waiting for him to just start something. And he perhaps was waiting for you to initiate. Dilemma remained unsolved and you arrived in seoul just like you had left it, but visiting your parents had lessened the encumbrances weighing you down.

You were about to retreat after thanking him when he finally spoke up,

“b.n at 6! No exemption. And instead of racking your brain, just ask. it’s simpler than you make it to be y/n.”

Slamming the door shut , you dragged your feet for the apartment, shaking your head at the man.

Of course he knows everything! And maybe could ask him someday to get your own answers.

10 days later

The gun went off with a bang which if it hadn’t been for the ear protectors and the noiseless sheets, would have deafen your ears. Fingers pointed at the target, eyes coloured with impatience, jungwoo didn’t move. After he was done with his dramatic action, the glass shield slid and he entered inside.

“this is target A. this one is B” he asked for a confirmation with his wide eyes which you nodded at.

“right. so!” he walked circling the dry grass to stand between two targets, “so when I say hit at A, you should be firing at A, precisely aiming anywhere in this space.” he explained again, hand moving in front of the said space.

“I hit at the center jungwoo! The fucking center! For the first time in two weeks.”

“yes. You did hit the core but of the wrong target.”

“how does it matter? It's a perfect shoot”

Jungwoo blinked multiple times focusing on your puzzled face. He wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to annoy him or you seriously lacked a few braincells to understand where you were wrong!

“at the wrong target.” he pressed.

“but I still hit-

“Ok. listen to me carefully now. Lets assume A is taeil hyung and B is a killer. If i shout to you that kill B and you mistakenly shoot A instead then you’d end up killing taeil hyung instead of the killer and then you’d be a killer yourself and even if the shot was perfect it was targeted wrongly thats why when i say hit A, hit A and when i say B, hit B. understood now?” dumbfounded, you stared at him bobbing your head a few times to indicate you understood. But you really hadn’t.

“You are not lying right?”

“Dont accuse me of lying!”

“Oh! So you still don-

“hey beautiful!”

Your heads jerked towards the owner of the voice who had just interrupted the bickering.

“johnny” you whispered.

“I meant jungwoo y/n.” jungwoo sticked his tongue out at you as he jumped forward to hug johnny.

“When did you come back?”

“just now. I flew directly to Japan from nice. didn’t he inform you all? And why is nobody at home?”

a small smile graced your face while jungwoo started explaining to him about some business event. You felt like jungwoo won’t shut up anytime soon so you turned around from the scene and made yourself busy with the magazine. As you were counting the rubber bullets to fill the magazine, a pair of arms touched your both shoulders.

“wh-

“how are you y/n.”

“you done talking to your prince.”

Jungwoo groaned approaching you with a stern look.

“you’ll have plenty of time to chatter. Focus on your job instead!”

“ugh. You are so annoying. I’m done for the day.” You announced handing the pistol to him.

“wait! what am I missing here.” Johnny's eyes shifted , not knowing what was going on in his absence.

“yuta hyu-

“I know all that. I’m asking about the bullets!”

“Taeil told me to learn some basics to defend myself and jungwoo is my assigned teacher who don’t seem to appreciate my skills at all”

“liar!” Jungwoo screeched and continued, “she’s poor at shooting, hits anywhere but the point I’m indicating at an-and she never listens to me.”

Snorting dramatically at the end, he glares at you. you welcomed his complaining speech with a toothy grin which seemed to annoy him more. One thing you had learnt in the past two weeks had been that jungwoo was frustrating when he was hungry and during the time he was supposed to teach you, no food was allowed in the basement, making him a hunger monster.. Johnny watched the exchange with an amused smile, just like you were doing a few minutes ago.

“alright. You both need to chill. Jungwoo, she's not a professional so go easy on her and you! you should listen to him. or if you want I can be your tutor instead!”

“don’t hijack here. she's my student and I was chosen because I am the softest and the sweeter one her-

“who is a second away from having a breakdown!”

“no go out. You are not invited anymore. nobody is allowed here from 6 to 7:30 .” Jungwoo announced as he started pushing Johnny out the door.

‘”yaa! Jungwoo. I’m go- don’t push me you rascal. I am going. Bye y/n. I’ll be waiting upstairs.” He shouted and waved in the air which you, for no reason, found yourself returning even if he wasn't going to see it.

As johnny was gone, jungwoo pressed the switch again to close the partition. Coming behind you, his arms embraced you and he placed the gun in your hand as he ducked himself to reach your height with another try to improve the hand-eye coordination. Occupied with each other, you both missed the pair of eyes watching you both  in a very unpleasant manner.  

“how’s your research going?” johnny asked with a mouthful of meatballs.

“it’s meh! The library is under construction so I can't properly look through books and besides minjun is too whiny to let me do anything. I can’t leave that kid alone so we're always hanging out after 1. I’ve some resources saved so I’m fine for now” you replied.

“seems like that minjun guy makes you very happy. Is he the one?” jaehyun took your attention as he pinched his neck. You narrowed your eyes at his unnecessary remark.

“my happy pill is not minjun but you jaehyun dear. I haven’t seen you in like 5 days i guess? So that eliminated all the reasons for my unhappiness. Your absence is my elixir jae. ” You grinned. Jaheyun pointed his chopstick at you but before he could utter anything, taeyong spoke up.

“woah. Don’t you two start now.” he cried.

“he’s the one that starts everything! I just continue his shit for it-

“well I won't initiate if its not for that stinky tongue o-

“Shut up before I lock both of you in a room.”

Hearing several snickers, it seemed like taeyong was the only one getting annoyed, everyone else seemed to be enjoying it.

Just when you were about to pour more juice, everything else finished and left the table. it seemed strange as how fast they were done with their dinner.

“how can you all eat so quickly?” doyoung seemed to be more perplexed as he asked taeyong.

“don’t you both know?” you settled your chopsticks on the plate as taeyong proceeded, “the last two to finish cleans the dishes.”

You instantly scanned the whole dining table and the instant regret of eating like a sloth washed over your face. There were only three left and next second there were only two. Jungwoo shot up from seat with his stuffed mouth, waved and left. Taeyong didn’t waste any time before he also scurried away.

“this was a conspiracy y/n.” doyoung murmured.

“I know right. they knew it. w-we have to wash for 14 people.”

“look at the brighter side, we don’t have to hurry now.”

You shrugged at his words, filling your glass with juice again.

“you should not be drinking juice at nighttime.” He lectured

“then why is it on the table?”

“aish! You are impossible.”

“so are you.”

You continued bickering with doyoung until both of you were finished. Like everyone else, you too had started to find joy while annoying doyoung. The responses from him were always a treat. He was also awfully similar to you. the nit-picking in almost everything, forever sceptical body language and lastly the  identical frown you both wore all the time. but you were not the one that detected the similarities, it was doyoung himself.

It was not just doyoung! With exception of jaehyun, it seemed like everyone was trying to make you a part of their daily lives. The day after the incident, you had hesitated to knock the door, scared of their reactions towards you but the dark cloud of worry had floated away with the warmest hug jungwoo had welcomed you with. You detected no rejection, no unpleasant remarks, instead you were strictly instructed to not to leave the premises without having dinner. And that one day became two and two a routine. You were confused as you were the reason someone dear to them was somewhere he wasn't meant to be at the moment and yet they treated you like you were their own! For first few days you were at edge, the affection not digestible. Feeding your suspicions , you tried to choke something out of mark who was also your designated driver but all he unveiled was his endless jokes and contagious giggles weaved with the various stories. Each day he recited a new one, sowing the seeds of intimacy with his family which, you couldn’t deny, were sprouting into something unprecedented. However vague it was, you liked it. You liked this unsought acceptance, being included like a family, taking you back in the time. But you never had the luxury of an easy life. Was this worth trusting? Were you ready to return their affection by placing them on the pedestal as same as jungkook and yugyeom. But this house wasn no more reeking of any resentment and you were more than fine with that for now.

"Stack the glasses, I'll pick up the plates"

"This is so tiring" you complained while scraping the sauce on the plates.

"You'll get used to it." Doyoung deadpanned.

"Tell me why i agreed to this!"

"You know the rules. And don’t you remember because of you, I washed for 20 people that day! You deserve the suffering woman!”

You chuckled at the memory. A few days ago, You, doyoung and hyuck were the last ones remaining.  And you had won the rock paper scissors. Though the last two were the supposed cleaners, hyuck had ditched the poor boy, leaving him with extra load.

"You carry some heavy dark clouds on your head man. I don't know how you manage to end up with dirty utensils!every fucking single time" Doyoung glared at your remark and you both continued washing and wiping the dishes side by side.

"Where are the spoons?"

"On the table. Wait , I'll be back in 2 minutes!"

Carrying the cutlery you made your way back to the kitchen but chanting of a familiar name froze you in your steps.

"He's acting like a child johnny! Had he called you after you left?" It was taeyong speaking in a hushed manner, but he was not doing a very good job in whispering.

"Nope. He just took names and contacts of all the whistleblowers and that's it. But i can’t understand the need for that taeyong! I had everything in control. What do you wanna achieve with your stupidity!”

"Jaemin, hyuck and jisung are in constant contact  with him but only to receive the codes he's sending. He's just unreachable and I'm not just talking about his cell network johnny. I'm losing him. He- taeil thought it’s for the best. They won’t see each others face for sometime an-

“And everything would be fine? Right? Sounds very legit. Goodluck with daydreaming princess.”

Hearing some shuffling, you trudged for the kitchen, not wanting them to be aware of your eavesdropping.

Stretching the hem of your knee length skirt with your hands, you kicked your feet in the air to get the non existing elasticity to work. chances were not less but anybody could see you so while cursing at chelin for the tight skirt you made your way inside the office. Your bag made contact with your right hip as you walked into the office corridors. You entered the security doors through the pass that was generated online for first day entry.You never wanted to enter this side of the famous company but with minimum options available you had no choice but to associate yourself with this branch, infamous for saving culprits of money laundering, false accusations and what not.

“ms. y/n?” a receptionist shifted your attention to her tall frame. You affirmed with a nod and she extended her hand asking for the documents.

“I’ll place your original documents in our custody room. No need to worry, this is a mere formality as we don’t make interns sign confidentiality papers. As you already know , you can end your internship with a three weeks prior notice and when we receive that application, your document would be handed back. And in case, you become an associate, and that would depend on your performance, you’ll get them at the promotion.”

You followed her steps as she stopped at a desk and gave you the papers back.

“change the folder to a chois file. And sign this receipt. I’ll give you a copy and don’t lose it if you want your degree back.” You blinked drinking each and every word she said. You again nodded like  a lost child and completed the formalities. After a few minutes you were shown to your small desk that was decorated with a pyramid of legal files.

“do I have to work on these” you voiced your fear. Even if it was a stipend based internship, nobody would take up that work load.

“oh no! actually I forgot that you were joining but I’ll get it cleaned in the evening so you can adjust for today right?” before you could respond the sound of her heels faded away in the distance.

“Welcome to the great chois y/n” you mumbled to yourself, picking up a random file to pass the time until further orders.

A week later

To keep your mind off the distasteful look painted all over mr. kwang’s face, you chose to look at his new assistant. The clicking or rather banging of the keys of the computer combined with the occasional scratch of her nails was highly uncomfortable but not more than the man sitting beside her. Your professor didn’t find it amusing that his favourite free fund student was asking for her permitted leave.

“how much have you progressed with the thesis?” he scoffed, respectfully dumping the application  on the table.

“I’ll be working half day. I’m not supposed to accompany them to the hearings so I’ll be back in the university in the late afternoon to research on that.”

He sighed, clearly not satisfied by the answer, “you want to skip lectures for an assistant job!”

“I would be promoted shortly so it’s acceptable sir.” A lie slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“what about getting distinction in thesis?”

“I’ll be surrounded with experts so it’s not a big deal sir.  I’m getting late. I’ll see you in Friday’s lecture.” In sync with his eyeballs, he rolled his chair to face the other way. Picking up the paper you bowed to his back and left the staffroom , a grin of content bedazzling your face.

"He did what?" Johnny tried hard to control his laughter but the scenario you were narrating was too humorous for him to keep his hands stable on the wheel.

"I'm not kidding John. Yugyeom seriously forgot kook  at Busan. But he did go back to get him though but I won't blame gyeom for this error!"

"Oh yeah! Just because jungkook slept in the gym doesn't justify his mistake girl. The driver should count the passengers before taking the wheel. Look at me, i never forget anyone no matter what!"

"Stop blowing your own trumpet. Don't forget you are driving a stolen car!"

Johnny rolled his eyes at the comment , "no, borrowed from mark so I can spend more time with you. stop lawyering and tell me what you did in the break. Apart from flirting with jungwoo of course."  

You shook your head at him as he repeated the same you-flirt-with-jungwoo mantra again but this time decided to follow the lead , "so what if we flirt! He's teaching me to save myself from predators , abductors and he’s very gentle with me. Have you seen his eyes! I want to drown myself in the depth of those brown sea-

"Oh my god I'm so sorry! I'm never mentioning that again but please stop. You are awful with words." His laughed again, you joining him soon. " Now seriously tell me how were your holidays"

"Umm nothing new except that everyone was on university funded trips leaving me with minjun , his camera and the plants. We explored botanies and flower shops an-

He had lied. You were not sounding awful but he just hated how quickly his heart beat at someone else's mention from your lips. He consumed each and every word like he could be tested on the said information later on. His eyes were glued to the road and his ears to your voice. He wanted nothing more than to be the only one you’d see. He wanted nothing more than to be subject of your talking but the voice in the back of his mind said fuck it johnny, you are already asking for too much. He hated how he lost control over his senses whenever you were near him but he was slowly getting used to the dilemma. But the trance he was trapped in quickly broke down when you mentioned something. Abruptly stopping the car by the trees, he faced you to confirm.

"You are doing what?"

"I'm interning. Don't look at me like I stole your candy John. I need money." You innocently replied not aware of the reason behind his sudden dumbfounded expression.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on masters!n yuta is supposed to pay for you so why do y-

" I can work for my money johnny." Frustration made its way to your face as you continued,"drop me home johnny!" You weren't sure whether it was for his mention or him questioning your ability to feed yourself but you were offended.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I won't mention that again" a hollow apology and the car sailed again.

Hiding himself in his car seat, Johnny's fingers hovered over various contacts. Taeyong, taeil, Yuta, jaehyun! He wasn't sure what he wanted to do or whose side he wanted to take. He just wanted to be with you and no one else! but he couldnt do that !

Kicking harshly at the brakes, he screamed. The voice reaching no one’s ears but his own.

Was he asking for too much?

i wanted to add more to this chapter but i dont find enough time to write due to some commitments! but i’ll update one more chapter before this beautiful year ends. and all the smut chapters would be uploaded again sans the adult stuff for the minor readers! and there are few more chapters left. masterlist says 12 chapters bcs i’m lazy（￣︶￣）↗　

HAPPY DECEMBER EVERYONE. HAPPY HANUKKAH AND MARRY CHRISTMAS. BE THE SANTA OF YOUR LIFE AND SPREAD HAPPINESS!!

[zootopiathingz]

Between the Odds

Part Two: Unfair Laws

As much as they loved their job, they had to admit they enjoyed the "chill" days where they didn't have to do so much outside work. Days like this helped them slow down and relax from the pace of work, and it was just what Judy needed the day after her birthday.

For their lunch break, she and Nick had gotten themselves some fast food and sat outside the ZPD for some fresh air. Many mammals came and went, either walking aimless around the grass or making their way in a certain direction. Judy unconsciously played with her locket, that she hadn't taken off since yesterday. Out of all the surprises she received from Nick, it had to be her favorite. There was just something about it that felt extra special.

"Thanks again for yesterday." She spoke up, leaning back against the bench. "It was definitely one of the best birthdays I've ever had."

"You're welcome, Carrots." He said, taking a bite of one of the fries.

"Hey wait, when's your birthday?" She asked, just now realizing she didn't actually know that important piece of information. She needed to know, especially now since she intended to make his just as special.

Nick shook his head, already knowing why she was asking. "Not for a while." He said dismissively, "You don't have to do anything big."

"Too late, I'm already planning it." She said quickly, "But don't worry, I won't go overboard."

"Promise?" He asked, raising a brow at her. As much as he appreciated her wanting to go all out for him, he just wasn't a big fan of his birthday. He was used to not celebrating it or just doing something low-key. But he should've expected more now that he had a radiant little bunny in his life.

"I swear." She held up her pinky, signaling for him to do the same so they could pinky promise. It was a bit childish, but it was just how they knew they were serious about a it.

Judy giggled and reached over to grab his drink, for no other reason than she wanted to try it. Surprisingly he didn't stop her, he just gave her a somewhat confused but amusing smile. "You could've asked."

The bunny took a few sips, ignoring his statement while she savored the taste. "It's good." She said once she finished, handing it back to him.

"I know, that's why I got it." He shook his head, placing the cup down on the other side of the bench to keep it out of her reach.

Judy rolled her eyes and lightly punched his arm in response. The two continued to eat in silence for a moment, enjoying their free time while it lasted. Sure the morning had been slow, but crime could happen at any given moment and they had to be prepared.

Their peace didn't last long, of course. They both raised their ears as they heard faint yelling in the distance. Looking across the pond, they noticed three mammals standing not too far. An elk appeared to be upset with a pig and a jaguar, but from observation they were confused as to why. Both cops suddenly became intrigued as to what was going on and began to listen the best they could from where they were.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand your problem." The pig lady said.

"You seriously don't see the problem?" The elk asked, throwing his hooves up in frustration. "This! All of this is wrong!"

"Are you saying you have a problem with us being together?" The jaguar asked, stepping in front of his girlfriend protectively. "How does that constitute as your problem?"

"Don't you see how wrong this is?!"

Nick and Judy shared a glance, silently agreeing that now was the time to step in before the situation got hostile. They stood up from the bench and walked around the pond to approach the three of them. No one noticed them at first, especially not the elk. He was too fixated on the couple, and the longer he stared at them, the more appalled he felt.

"I'm just trying to help you before it's too late. You might regret this later in life." He went on, "I mean, do you really want to look back and wonder why you would date a pig?"

"I don't think you have any right telling me who I should be dating." The jaguar scowled.

"It's not that, I'm just saying it's not right!"

Judy cleared her throat to catch their attention, and admittedly they felt nervous at the sight of two cops suddenly approaching them. "Excuse me, hi. I hope you don't mind us but we couldn't help overhearing that you have a problem with these two?" She said to the elk man as politely as she could. "What's going on exactly?"

The man scoffed, gesturing to the couple. "What's going on, officer, is they're a crime against nature!"

Nick glanced at them, "Uhh how so?"

"Look at them! They're a pig and a jaguar! They can't be together!" He exclaimed, more distressed than he should've been.

"Why not?" Judy asked, genuinely confused.

"Pigs are supposed to be with pigs and jaguars are supposed to be with jaguars! Mammals are supposed to mate with the same species!" He declared, "It's not right to go against that!"

While it seemed like he was trying to help the couple, he was actually causing more damage than assistance. His words were old-fashioned, small-minded thinking that was partly why mammals felt divided sometimes.

"Uhh well, that's how it was in the old days, but this is the 21st century." Judy shrugged, "Anyone can be with anyone now."

The man grimaced at her response, as if it was blasphemy. "That's a load of shit." He shook his head, "Inter-species marriage is still illegal here and I pray that they keep it that way."

At this point it was hard to stay patient with him. Not only was he causing a scene but he clearly just wanted an excuse to express his opinions that no one asked for. Judy sighed, putting her paw to her hip, "Okay look, regardless of how you feel about them, you are harassing a poor couple and if you don't leave them alone, we're going to have to step in."

The elk glared at her, but remained shockingly quiet, considering he had a lot to say a moment ago. He definitely didn't want to get the cops involved, but he couldn't suppress his anger and disgust.

"Hey, you heard her." Nick said, "Beat it."

The man huffed defeatedly and walked away, grumbling to himself. While watching him leave, Judy's expression faltered, realizing what he had said a moment ago. Was it true that inter-species marriage wasn't allowed? In Zootopia of all places? Sure, small towns like Bunnyburrow wouldn't allow it, mostly because the majority of residents were bunnies. But Zootopia was more diverse, and mammals getting upset over a pig and jaguar being together didn't make any sense.

Once he was out of earshot, the couple sighed with relief. "Thank you so much." The pig said to the officers, "He's been bothering us for like, ten minutes. We tried to walk away but he kept following us."

"Don't worry, I don't think he's gonna be bothering you again anytime soon." Nick said assuringly, glancing in the direction the elk walked away.

"But if he does, don't be afraid to tell us." Judy said, "And don't listen to what he said. As long as you love each other, that's all that should matter to you."

The pig grinned, grabbing her boyfriend's paw to hold. "Thank you. Our four-year anniversary is coming up." She said with a hint of excitement.

"Aww, congratulations!" Judy smiled, giving a glance to her partner.

"Thanks." She chuckled. "And thanks again for helping us."

"No problem!"

The couple said goodbye and parted ways from the cops, now unbothered by what the elk had done to them. Nick and Judy watched them leave before returning to their bench to finish their lunch. They were relieved that the situation didn't lead to physical violence. If it did, they wouldn't have been able to successfully subdue a jaguar and an elk on their own.

But the moment lingered in Judy's thoughts, and she couldn't help feeling perturbed about what the elk had said.

—

A few hours passed since their break, and just before her shift was over for the day, Judy decided she would talk to the chief about what happened. Not to report the man, though (he didn't really do anything that was worth reporting). Instead she needed to discuss what had been bugging her.

She raised her paw up to knock on the office door, although she wasn't sure if the chief was actually inside. Come to think of it, Judy hadn't seen him all day. "Chief Bogo?" She asked, hopping up to reach the doorknob so she could let herself in. Not surprisingly she saw her boss sitting at his desk, lifting his gaze as she entered the room.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?" She asked, hoping she wasn't interrupting anything. To be honest, she still felt anxious around him sometimes, due to the fact he disdained her when she started working for him. But he warmed up to her pretty quickly, so they were on better terms now.

Chief Bogo gestured for her to sit in the chair in front of him, in which she did—with some difficult because of its size. "What's going on, Hopps?" He asked in a monotone. It was unclear if he was in a good mood or not, but if he wasn't he wouldn't have let her in his office in the first place.

Judy shifted to sit more comfortably in the chair as she began, "Okay so earlier today, Officer Wilde and I witnessed a man yelling at a couple, and he seemed really disgusted by the fact they were inter-species. And he mentioned something that I wasn't aware of..that inter-species marriage is illegal here?"

Bogo sighed and removed his glasses, "Unfortunately, he was correct. It's been that way ever since Zootopia was founded."

"But why?" She asked with a small frown.

"There was a number of reasons. It was mostly to keep mammals safe, but partially because the founders had very strict beliefs." The chief explained.

The safety part made some sense. Zootopia was founded just after mammals began to evolve and develop, so some of their behavior was still unpredictable at the time. But what "strict beliefs"  were against it? Judy wasn't aware of any religion that stated animals couldn't mate outside their species.

"But that was a long time ago. Things have changed since then." She said, "And I personally don't see a problem with a pig being with a jaguar."

"Neither do I, Hopps, but the status of the law has been in debate for centuries and I don't think it's going to change anytime soon." Bogo shook his head disappointedly.

Judy pursed her lips in thought. Surely he was wrong. A law like that had to change soon, it wasn't fair to keep mammals restricted from who they wanted to marry. "Wait, don't we have a new mayor? Maybe he can change it!"

"You know it's not just the mayor that decides these things." He said, standing up from his chair. "It has to be voted by the Supreme Court, and unfortunately the majority of them are old-fashioned and want to keep it the way it is."

As he walked over to his coffee maker, Judy stood up in the chair, refusing to accept the facts. There was no way a dumb law like this could stay in effect forever. "Well, isn't there something we can do?" She asked, "I'm sorry, sir, this just seems really unfair to a lot of mammals."

Bogo sighed, pouring some coffee into his mug. "It is, but it's not our job to change the law. All we can do is enforce it."

Judy wanted to disagree, but she quickly realized he had a point. It wasn't a police officer's job to decide things like this, and as far as she was aware, there was nothing she could do.

She nodded in defeat, lowering her ears. "I understand."

[dickspeightjrs]

Fourth of July  - (canon / 1.3k words)

Dean woke up sweaty and alone. His shirt was sticking to his skin and it wasn’t because of the scorching heat of Kansas in early July.

No, he’d had yet another nightmare. They seemed to be becoming more frequent and a hell of a lot more intense recently.

Dean couldn’t say what started them up again. He never got the doctor-recommended 8 hours of sleep but recently he couldn’t sleep more than a couple hours without waking up soaked to the skin, heart pounding like it just might jump right out of his chest. He thought he was getting better.

Obviously not.

He shuffled into the kitchen to put on the coffee machine, setting it to warm up while he took a much-needed shower. It was 3am but he knew he wouldn’t get back to sleep now.

When he returned from his shower twenty minutes later, feeling fresher but no less anxious, he noticed Castiel sitting at the table with two steaming mugs of coffee in front of him. He must have heard Dean moving from his room to the kitchen and left his own room to investigate. He turned to look at Dean with a frown torn between sympathy and worry.

Dean hated it.

He hated feeling weak. He hated making Cas’ face look like that. He hated that Cas knew him so well that all he had to do was look at Dean to know something was wrong.

In classic Dean fashion, he worked to deflect the attention away from himself.

“Dude, the wind changes and your face’ll stay like that.”

And in classic Castiel fashion, he knew Dean well enough to know when he was trying to avoid a situation.

Castiel gave Dean an unimpressed bitch face. (He’d clearly been spending too much time with Sammy.)

“Did you have another nightmare, Dean?”

Dean sat down at the table opposite Cas but regretted it when he couldn’t even meet the angel’s eyes.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. I dealt with them before and I’ll deal with them again.” Dean shrugged and reached for the warmth of the coffee cup in front of him – looking away from Cas’ knowing gaze.

“Perhaps it would help if you talked to someone about it?” Castiel suggested, never taking his eyes away from Dean.

“I can’t see a shrink, Cas, not with the life we have. They’d take one look at me and throw me in the loony bin – I’d know, me and Sam had to do it once for hunt.”

“That’s not what I meant. Maybe you could just talk to me or Sam.”

Dean made an unimpressed snort.

“You don’t want me unloading my crap onto you, Cas.”

“Maybe I do.” Castiel held Dean’s gaze, daring the hunter to challenge him.

After a beat, Dean lifted his hands up in surrender. “Your funeral, I guess.”

“We can start small if you’d like? What did you dream about tonight?”

Dean sighed. He’d rather not revisit it. It felt like the pounding of his heart had only just subsided. But seeing Castiel’s open, hopeful look made Dean want to be brave.

��I was dreaming of that Fourth of July in 1995 – the one I saw in my heaven that time, d’ya remember?” Castiel nodded in acknowledgement but otherwise made no comment.

“Well it started off with that. Man, that was a good night. We haven’t celebrated Fourth of July since, always too busy saving the world I guess.”

Castiel silently stood up to refill Dean’s coffee mug while he spoke.

“It was going just as I remember it, me and Sammy together in that field watching the fireworks light up the sky. Laughing like we didn’t have a care in the goddamn world.” Dean chuckled darkly. “But then, I turn back to look at Sam and fuckin’ Yellow Eyes is there, holding a knife against his throat. And Yellow Eyes just starts fuckin’ cutting into him. I’m screaming and screaming for him to stop but I’m paralysed and my voice comes out silent. And then Sammy’s just… gone.”

Dean could feel tears forming in his eyes. He looked up and blinked, trying to get rid of them and not let them spill over.

“Yellow Eyes has been dead for years, man. I don’t know why he’s haunting me again.”

Dean felt Castiel’s hand come down on his and squeeze softly. Normally, he’d pull away and make a joke to lighten the mood – definitely not letting his brain go there. But he was too tired, too exhausted and Castiel’s hand was keeping him tethered to reality.

It seemed Castiel could sense that Dean was done talking. He let the room be enveloped in silence for a few minutes.

Until –

“We should celebrate Fourth of July.”

Dean almost choked on the last sip of coffee.

“What?”

“You say you and Sam haven’t celebrated it since you were children and it could be helpful to make new memories to replace the ones tarnished by your nightmares.” Dean noticed a light blush appear on Castiel’s cheeks. “Plus, in all my years of existence, and my many years on this planet, I’ve never marked the occasion.”

“You know what Cas?” Dean smiled, hand moving to hold Cas’ where they both still lay on the table. “I think that’s an awesome idea.”

The blinding smile Castiel returned was bright enough to light the twilight corridors of the bunker.

*   *   *

A couple of days later saw Sam, Dean and Cas gathered on the abandoned field a couple blocks from the bunker.

Dean’s just finished getting the fireworks out of the trunk and setting them up on the dehydrated grass when he turns to see Castiel has made himself comfortable on the Impala’s hood – sprawled out with blankets from the backseat.

“Looking cozy there, Cas.” Dean chuckled. “But, I don’t think there’s gonna be enough room up there for all three of us with all those blankets too.”

“It’s fine, Dean!” Sam’s voice came from the side of the car. “I can use my camping chair.” He held said chair victoriously above his head before folding it out and placing it next to the beer cooler Dean insisted on bringing.

“Where the hell did you get a camping chair?”

Instead of giving Dean an answer, Sam just looked from Dean to Castiel and back to Dean again. His face said it all. The shit-eating grin working its way onto Sam’s face had ‘meddling little brother’ written all over it.

Dean shot his brother a glare, picked up and beer, and clambered up onto the hood of the Impala to join Cas. Cas immediately moved to Dean like a magnet – offering Dean part of the blanket he’d wrapped over his shoulders.

Dean took it, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ and indicated to Sam to light the fireworks.

As the first few rockets screamed into the sky and exploded into beautiful colours, Dean felt a tickle on the side of his neck. He turned his head to look down at Cas just as his head met Dean’s shoulder.

A small smile drew itself across Dean’s face. He could see Sam’s pointed look out of the corner of his eye but, much like the other night, Dean couldn’t bring himself to deny himself this connection.

Dean felt Castiel’s voice rise through this body before he heard it.

“It’s so beautiful, don’t you think Dean?”

“Yeah.” Dean breathed. He couldn’t trust himself to say much more.

Castiel moved his face further into Dean’s neck, taking his eyes off the smattering of fireworks lighting the dotted sky for the first time since the display began.

“I hope this was everything you wanted it to be, Dean.” Castiel hummed.

Dean pressed a kiss into Cas’ dark hair. “You know what Cas? It was everything and more.” He whispered.

*  *  *

Did Dean’s nightmares miraculously disappear from that night on? No, of course not. Dean was pretty sure as long as he had blood pumping through his veins, that there’d be nightmares ripping through his brain.

But those nightmares are a little more bearable when you’ve got an angel holding you through the night.

Thank you for reading! 

If you’d like to be tagged any of my future stuff just drop me a message and let me know. :) 

[myaekingheart]

138. Rock and Roru

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

TW for eating disorder talk. *flings fluff at you* ENJOY THE CAVITIES BECAUSE THESE TWO ARE JUST TOO DAMN CUTE. A little detour to expand on Roru and her team, based on what Sekkachi mentioned to Rei in the previous chapter. I promise all of this is going to come back around and tie into Rei and Kakashi's story, so just bear with me for a second haha

               Roru Fumeiyo swung her legs back and forth idly as she gripped the edge of the bench in the hospital courtyard. The sun was far too bright and the birds were too loud. She heard the footsteps of a young couple down the hallway, laughing in disbelief as they swooned over their baby’s first ultrasound. Sick. How could anyone be happy on a day like this?

               Roru tilted her head back against the back of the bench and huffed. She couldn’t comprehend how something could turn so sour so quickly. She almost scorned herself for having woken up that morning feeling optimistic. She should have known better. Now everything was ruined, and it was all Suisen Unohana’s fault.

               Team Tekuno had been working hard to prepare for the chunin exams. With two weeks left before the written exam, they were really getting down to the wire.

               “How about I take you girls out for some ramen after this?” Tekuno had asked during a brief respite. His students sprawled out across the grass, guzzling water and fanning their faces. It may have been hot, but they knew this would be nothing compared to the unforgiving summers in Sunagakure.

               To say that Tekuno had been proud of his students was understatement. He had never expected these girls, so whiny and weak in the beginning, to become so strong and capable. They each had their own merits that, when combined, forged an indomitable alliance. Roru was agile and determined, Hoseki captivating and clever, and Suisen was smart and skilled. Tekuno couldn’t help but laugh, likening them to the famed Dorimuchimu led by Chikara-sensei. Tekuno had never paid much mind to the original all-girl squad in his youth, rolling his eyes at their sense of feminism, but now that he was in a similar position, he had garnered a newfound admiration for the old team. Especially with Roru under his wing, the younger cousin of Dorimuchimu’s Sekkachi Fumeiyo.

               Leaping to her feet, Hoseki brushed the little blades of grass from her puffy pigtails and shot her sensei a sharp smile. “Just one more sparring match first” she insisted. “I want to feel like I’ve really earned it.”

               A gleaming smile touched Roru’s lips as she nodded in agreement. Suisen rose slowly, cautiously. She was outnumbered and therefore had no room to protest. Chuckling, Tekuno took great pride in his student’s determination and agreed to let them have one more match. The girls crouched into their battle positions, awaited Tekuno’s signal, and then they were off.

               A sharp smiel touched Roru’s face as she lunged for Suisen, not unkindly. Suisen’s violet eyes bugged in and out and she began to rock back and forth on her heels until suddenly, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she crumpled onto the ground. Roru froze. This was not her doing. After a split-second of initial shock, she whipped around to glare at Hoseki. “What did you do?!” she shouted.

               Hoseki narrowed her eyes, offended at the insinuation. “Don’t look at me! I did nothing!”

               Meanwhile, Tekuno raced in to intervene. Deep down, he knew that something was very, very wrong. He brushed Suisen’s long, dark hair out of her face, pressed a hand to her pale forehead, checked her pulse, frowned. “Go get a medic-nin! Now!” he insisted.

               Hoseki gave a single nod before racing off, not an ounce of hesitation in her limbs. Roru watched her disappear and the weight of the situation slowly descended upon her young shoulders. Suddenly Suisen looked so weak, so helpless. What have I done?

               She stood there completely paralyzed as Tekuno propped Suisen up in his arms, pulled a scroll from his utility belt, summoned a first aid kit, worked steadily to support her until the medics came. When they did, the quickly transferred Suisen’s limp body onto a stretcher and rushed her away.

               “What the hell are you doing?” Hoseki shouted at her, whacking her comrade on the shoulder. She grabbed Roru’s hand, tugged her onward. “Let’s go!”

               The waiting felt endless as Roru and Hoseki sat slumped in the waiting room, watching Tekuno pace back and forth. And then Suisen’s parents arrived, her sweet mother hysterical and her father’s face stony with concern. Tekuno explained the situation to them and Shirayuki Unohana immediately broke down, her hands shaking and knees faltering. Without even a diagnosis, she was already hysterical. Her husband wrapped an arm around her in support and guided her to a seat by the window, assuring her that everything would be fine even though he wasn’t very convinced of it himself.

               None of it made much sense to Roru. Suisen was fine, wasn’t she? It wasn’t like she was diseased. Perhaps it was just heat exhaustion, or exhaustion in general. They had been working extremely hard lately. Tekuno pursed his lips and wondered if this was his fault, if he had taken things too far. But the girls wanted to work hard. They were the ones setting the schedules, pushing themselves. Perhaps he should have regulated their training better, forced them to take a step back when they were on the verge of going overboard. Either way, he felt as if he, too, was to blame.

               After nearly an hour, the doctor finally emerged from the emergency room. He was a rather tall and skinny man with angular features and taut lips. Nothing about him was very reassuring—he had the type of face from which you would expect to hear that you only had three weeks to live. A shiver ran down Roru’s spine.

               The verdict? Anorexia.

               A cold chill unanimously rushed through the lot of them. Suddenly it was as if the room was completely empty save for themselves, the walls closing in and the air ice cold. Dr. Gon explained that once Suisen had come to, they conducted various physical and pscyological examinations on her, and that was their conclusion. Anorexia.

               Words like underweight, malnourished, anemia, and treatment all circulated through Roru’s head. It just didn’t make any sense. What reason did Suisen have to be anorexic, anyway? She had a happy home life with parents who loved her. She was smart and skilled and capable as a shinobi. She wasn’t even fat. It didn’t make any sense.

               Dr. Gon continued to explain that due to how severe a case she was, they would have no choice but to admit her to their inpatient program for treatment. He then turned to Tekuno-sensei, muttering, “Which means your involvement in the chunin exams is now null and void.” Roru’s body went cold. She gripped the edge of her seat and suddenly the room began to spin.

               After all her hard work, all her blood and sweat and tears, this was how it was going to end? No. Absolutely unacceptable. Roru cursed Suisen under her breath. How dare she do this to her. It just didn’t make any sense.

               And what the hell was an inpatient program? Roru’s mind immediately flickered back to ghost stories told at the academy, of strait jackets and large needles and tranquilizers and the shrieks of the mentally insane. She couldn’t fathom picturing sweet, shy Suisen in a place like that.

               “It’s really not that big of a deal” Hoseki said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “My cousin is up there in the same place as we speak.”

               “You mean Kagami?” Roru asked. She had only met Kagami Kenshin a handful of times and each time she had, he gave her the creeps. He was a quiet, fidgety guy with mismatched eyes and a nasally voice. He constantly looked displeased with the world, so much so that he decided to spend all his time in others—that is, the worlds housed within books.

               Hoseki nodded disdainfully. “That idiot’s head got all out of whack to the point where he tried to kill himself” she explained. “Mama found him passed out on the floor with a bottle of pills. And now he’s laid up in the same place that Suisen is. It’s just what happens when people are messed up in the head.”

               Roru pursed her lips. She didn’t particularly appreciate Hoseki’s bluntness, but Roru knew that she did not know much better herself. After all, in the back of her mind all she could think about was how Suisen had ruined everything. None of them would be making chunin this year.

               As Suisen’s parents struggled to comprehend this new information, and Tekuno attempted to console them, Roru took the opportunity to slip away from the chaos. She needed fresh air and distance. She needed to sit with her bare feet in the courtyard grass and implode in on herself, completely alone and defeated. She should have done something. She should have paid closer attention. She should’ve seen the signs. Roru pressed a hand to her anxious stomach and reminded herself that she was not much better.

               No wonder she couldn’t realize that Suisen had a problem. Roru’s relationship with food wasn’t exactly perfect, either. But Roru was different. She didn’t restrict on purpose. She thought of her family, of the curse laid upon them, the hereditary stomach ailments that they all faced. Restriction was merely a precaution. She was intolerant, defective, diseased. Her actions were for the sake of her own health. And still, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was partially to blame. If Suisen saw the way she avoided food and followed suit. Girls their age were so easily influenced anyway. But Suisen was smarter than that. She could tell the difference, couldn’t she? Roru hoped that was the case. If not, then Suisen was a damned fool.

               Roru paid no mind when the door from the hospital lobby creaked open. If it was Hoseki coming to nag her about sulking, she didn’t want to hear it. If it was Tekuno-sensei coming to explain things to her delicately, like she was a dumb child, she didn’t want anything to do with that, either. Instead, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a bizarre green blur. For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating and therefore had no other choice but to turn and view her interruptor fully.

               “Hello! What are you doing out here all alone?” he asked. Standing before her was a boy, tall and lanky with his shiny black hair cut in the most ridiculous bowl cut she had ever seen. Even more ridiculous was the green lycra jumpsuit he wore, complete with vivid orange legwarmers. He looked straight out of an 80’s aerobics video. No doubt about it, this was Might Guy’s protégé.

               Roru had nothing against Might Guy, truthfully. In fact, she was rather fond of him. He was bright and enthusiastic and got along splendidly with her family. She was sure Uncle Hakai had hoped at some point that he and Sekkachi would get together, but they all knew Sekkachi was not the type. Still, to see them together was always bizarre. Sekkachi was so blunt and cynical, whereas Might Guy was everything she was not. Roru wondered if the boy standing before her now was much the same.  

               Unfortunately, Roru was not in the proper headspace to show him the kindness he deserved. “What do you care?” she asked flatly, turning her gaze away from him.

               “Because you look like you are upset! I know it is hard not to be upset in a hospital, but you are like a beautiful angel who deserves to be happy and smile!” the boy replied. Roru cocked a brow in confusion, though deep down she hated to admit that she was flattered. No one had ever said such kind things to her before. At a time like this, it felt especially nice. The boy then sat down on the empty seat beside her and continued, “Now please, tell me what is wrong so I might be able to make you feel better!”

               “Y-you…would really do that for me?” Roru asked. “But I don’t even know you.”

               The boy paused then, blinked despondently, and then bowed his head in deep apology. For a moment, Roru was certain that heavy tears were flowing down his cheeks. “Where are my manners?! I am so sorry, Guy-sensei! I have failed you in the art of introduction! My name is Rock Lee! It is an honor to meet you!” He quickly took hold of Roru’s hand then and planted a polite kiss on the back.

               “Um, nice to meet you…Rock” Roru muttered, uncertain. All the while, she willed the blood away from her cheeks.

               “Oh, no, you can just call me Lee!” he corrected.

               “So…is your first name Rock or is your first name Lee?” she asked.

               Rock Lee paused for a moment before replying, “My first name is Rock, and my last name is Lee! I can see how that would be confusing! But I prefer to just be called Lee!”

               Who the hell names their kid ‘Rock’? Roru thought to herself. Looking at him now, though, she couldn’t say she was entirely surprised. The kid exuded bizarre. With a slight nod, she muttered, “I’m Roru. Roru Fumeiyo.”

               “What a beautiful name!” Lee gushed. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl! There is nothing more fitting! Now, please, tell me why you are so sad!”

               Roru pursed her lips, considered him. Why was he being so nice to her? Was he just vying for her affection, or did he truly, genuinely care about her feelings? At this rate, it didn’t matter. The fact that he was even expressing concern for her was enough to open the floodgates. Eyes locked on the ground, she explained the situation as best as she could to him. She could sense Lee’s face soften at her words, her tone weaving between concern and disappointment and anger. Once she was finished, there was a moment of silence and then Rock Lee spoke.

               “Do not get down on yourself!” he exclaimed. “I know it is hard, and you may feel like you will never make chunin, but Guy-sensei has always told me that if you want something badly enough, then it is never out of your reach!” He clenched his fist at his chest and grinned proudly, his eyes glossy with passionate tears.

               “That’s easy for you to say” Roru snarked. “I bet climbing the ranks has been a breeze for you.” If Might Guy’s work ethic was any indication, she was certain that Lee had inherited the same vigor and determination.

               Lee, however, shook his head. “Do not be so quick to judge!” he reminded her. “Roru, do you know why I am at the hospital today?” Roru shook her head. She presumed he was visiting a sick friend or something. He certainly did not look sick himself, but then again neither did she. “A year ago, I took the chunin exams. I fought against Gaara of the Sand, who has since become the Kazekage. He was a very strong opponent, and we fought long and hard. I did my best to prove that I am worthy as a shinobi, even though I cannot use ninjutsu or genjutsu! But I pushed myself too far and suffered serious injuries. If it was not for Lady Tsunade and her amazing medical ninjutsu, I may never have been able to walk or fight again! I am at the hospital today because I had a follow-up appointment for the surgery, to make sure that everything is still healing properly. I am happy to say that my body is recovering very well!”

               Roru dropped her gaze to the ground, took a moment to absorb everything that Rock Lee had told her. It was hard to believe that not so long ago, he had faced such incredible odds himself. He seemed so optimistic, so upbeat and bright. Where did he find the energy to be so hopeful?  And on a related note, his story made her feel almost pathetic for being angry. Other people had faced much larger obstacles than she did. Who gave her the right to be pissed off about something so petty? Not to say that her disappointment had not been erased because it hadn’t—not in the slightest. She only felt even worse about it now.

               “Roru” Lee then said, and she snapped her head up, her heart leaping into her chest at the way he spoke her name. “I am sorry that you have been met with a terrible setback. I am sorry that you are disappointed in what has happened. But I hope you do not blame yourself for what has happened to your friend.”

               Sighing, Roru shook her head and asked, “What am I supposed to do, though?” She swept her thick bangs back out of her face, careful not to disturb the little white bow fixed at the base of the swoop. “I feel so helpless. I can’t wrap my brain around any of this, it just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

               Lee frowned, and there was something so unnatural about it. “I do not know” he admitted. “I am sure that your friend is fighting a battle right now that we may never be able to understand. All we can do is give her our youthful support!”

               “Our youthful support?” Roru repeated.

               Lee nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Guy-sensei told me that when people are in a dark place, they need as much light and love as possible to find their way out. And that is what we must do for your friend! We must shower her with all of our passionate support and let her know that we are here for her and want her to get better!”

               Roru couldn’t help but laugh. The way Lee approached life, it was so innocent and straightforward. She had to admit, she appreciated that about him. And while she still was struggling to come to terms with Suisen’s situation, and the consequences of it all, Lee made her feel at least a little bit better.

               “Hey, Lee?” she said after a stretch of silence. He raised his bushy brows as if to silently show he was paying attention. “Thank you.”

               “Is it no problem at all!” Lee replied with an enthusiastic thumbs up.

               “Let me make it up to you” she said. Turning to him, a small smile spread across her lips and finally, she was no longer able to restrain the blush touching her cheeks. “Do you like dango? My treat. We can share fighting techniques if you want. I can’t use ninjutsu or genjutsu either.” A small, sheepish giggle bubbled up from her chest and she couldn’t believe how nervous she had become around him. How anxious she was for him to say yes.

               A wide grin spread across Lee’s face then as he leapt to his feet, took her hand in his, and together they departed from the hospital. And while the day had gone so bitter so quickly, as Roru walked alongside this strange and upbeat boy, she began to take comfort in knowing that maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of sweetness in it after all.

[reidimagines]

Extra colors

a/n: wheee thank u anon for requesting this! hope you enjoy it!

summary: when emily comes back from the death, Y/n can’t be anything except happy, because her girl is back. she can come hom again.

It had been a week. Seven days. You never knew time could pass so fast, yet so slow at the same time. It felt as if time wasn’t anythng more than a concept you had escaped. You felt utterly numb, and while it was better than the devastation you’d expected, it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Your home felt too big, without Emily. The fridge too full, without her snacking at two in the morning, the couch needed more pillows. 

It was stupid, and you knew that. Emily had been gone for cases longer than seven days. A week. And yet, this felt so different. It was different, because, as much as you hadn’t yet accepted it, she wasn’t coming back. Every day would be a day without Emily. When you thought about it, it was worse than a nightmare. Your nightmares had always been plagued with her getting hurt, but you’d never imagined her…

--

It had been a week, since you’d buried her. A little more since she had died. You wished you’d lost count, or wished you had the strength to go to her grave. You didn’t have the energy to do anything, didn’t feel the need to do anything. Your friends came with food, they switched shifts, but they all did the same. 

They made you food, you ate together, them talking about funny things that happened, until they weren’t even sure if you were with them, mentally. Then, they’d hold your hand, whispered encouraging things, like: “the pain will ease”, “time heals all wounds”, “if you want to take your mind off of things, I’m free”. It was useless, but you’d smile, squeezing their hand back, and said “thank you”, like you were supposed to. 

You felt numb, were still waiting for that feeling to change into sadness. You felt like the pain would crash in, you were waiting for the cracked glass to break. Your breaking point was near, and in a way, you hoped it would come. It felt like you weren’t mourning enough, as stupid as that sounded. 

You couldn’t sleep, it was always filled with her, which made waking up even worse. You couldn’t eat, not when she couldn’t anymore. You weren’t even hungry. If it weren’t for your friends, you would not eat, drink, or shower. You supposed it was a bit better than crying for days. 

But, life goes on, and on the eight day, you went back to work. They gave you simple tasks. You needed to get out, your mom came to clean your place for you. It was routine, but it did take your mind off things, even if it was just for a moment. At the end of the day, you offered a coworker a genuine smile, when she handed you a thick file that needed to be processed before the end of the month. It was more time than she should have given you, so you were grateful. You could spent your sleepless nights going over files, now. 

As you walked home, you began to think that maybe that was your life without Emily. Empty. It felt like it would always be like that. 

You unlocked the door, the smell of lavander coming towards you. Your mother did use nice smelling products. That’s what you thought, at least. As you dropped your bag and moved further into the house, the smell got stronger. 

There were flowers on the table. Your mother thought flowers were a dumb gift, as much as you’d always loved to have them in house. She wouldn’t buy you these. With trembling fingers, you reached for the note, feeling like your heart might beat out of your chest.

It was a simple, handwritten note, with ‘flower subscription Levi’ on the back. As fast as your heart was beating, it suddenly stopped. Emily paid for this, paid them to deliver flowers every two weeks. She must’ve paid for the month. You opened the note, tears springing in your eyes for the first time since the funeral. 

“Because you make me the happiest woman in the world, love Emily”

A sob so loud it almost couldn’t be human, left your mouth as your knees threatened to give out under you. You chocked on your own breath, a hand clasped in front of your mouth to keep the sounds in as tears rolled over your cheeks. You couldn’t see anything, it was like everything, the past eight days, came at you all at once.

She was never coming back. 

She was gone. 

She was under the ground. 

She wasn’t with you. 

She’d never be with you again. 

You clutched the note to your chest, not bothering to get a chair and just let yourself slide on the ground, until you were sitting there, head on your knees, crying your eyes out. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been ten hours. You didn’t know, and you didn’t care. The tears finally stopped enough for you to sniff, move to the bathroom and get dressed for bed. The note was still in your hand. You couldn’t stop the occasional tear from rolling over your cheeks, but you were in one of her sweaters and your pajama bottoms. You entered the bedroom, but stopped in your tracks. 

On the bed, was a stack of pictures. Your mom must have found them, thought you might like to look at them. But you knew those pictures. They were all with Emily, had been in a small box in your closet. You’d taken selfies and pictures of her every date, hoping to one day make a picture book. That was never going to happen now. You weren’t even sure if you could look at them. At least, not now. 

You backed away slowly, closing the door and moving to the couch instead. Under a blanket, with the note pressed to your chest, you cried yourself to sleep, into the first dreamless night in eight days. 

--

After that, it started to get better. Three weeks later, you looked through the pictures, four weeks later, you hung them up. Week six, you went through her stuff. You couldn’t throw any of it away, not just yet, but you put it in the attic, with the help of JJ, who had ended up on your doorstep. 

Week seven, Derek and Spencer asked if you wanted a ride to her grave. You went for the first time since the funeral. A week later, you went by yourself, a small bouquet of daisies with you. She’d brought you daisies on your first date. Desîte the flower subscription, she sometimes still brought back daisies with a kiss. “You deserve them unexpectedly, too.” She’d say, and you’d smile for the rest of the day.

Time went on, and while you missed her everyday, life started to gain some color again. You knew for certain that you’d never see some colors again, though. There were colors that had only been Emily’s, and you’d lost that. But the orange of a sunset came back, the blue of the lake, the green of the grass, and the stars eventually began to sparkle a bit brighter again, too. 

You were far from fine, but you were dealing, coping, learning how to live with a wound that would forever be there. You were learning how to live without a part of you. 

-- 

“Hey, what’s up?” You said, leaning back against the wall of your office building. You wanted to go on a lunch break with a coworker when Derek called. You went outside to take it as he dealed with the last things before he could leave. “Haven’t heard from you in ages, you’re better calling to go to a club or something, I have the weekend off, so if you’re in town-” You rambled, before Derke stopped you. 

“Y/n,” He said, and your smile dropped. you recognized that voice. It’s the same one he used when he said what had happened. 

“Oh god, is everything okay?” You tucked strands of hair behind your ear that weren’t even loose, pushed yourself away from the wall and began pacing, light panic settling in you. 

“Yeah, but… you should come. I can’t really… explain on the phone.” 

He seemed at loss of words, and you began fumbling for your keys. Why would he need you, not even a cop, to come to the office? “I’ll be there in fifteen.” 

“Okay,” He said, hanging up. No teasing, no banter, nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Something had to be very wrong, then. 

You passed the speed limit a few times, had to stop yourself from going even faster. You were scared, anxious. You didn’t know what was going on, but it couldn’t be much good.

Derek was waiting for you, letting you in.

You rushed into the elevator, unable to stand still, but unable to move at the same time. your heart was racing in your chest, and you pressed your nails in your palm, anything to stop your mind from going from bad to worse. Derek just looked at you, not sure if he should say something. If he was being honest, he was speecheless himself.

The doors, after what felt like an eternity, slid open. No one of the team was in sight, you guessed briefing room, then. You hurried up the stairs, your breath stuck in your throat, your body shaking ever so slightly, although you couldn’t say for sure why. 

The blinds were closed, and you shifted on your feet before knocking. Hotch opened the door. “Y/n,” He said, his expression not telling much. “Good. Come in.” 

He let you in, and for a moment, you didn’t understand why you had to come. But then, you thought you saw a ghost. You could feel the color drain from your face, a violent shake setting into your limbs. You couldn’t even find the words the describe what you were feeling, it was everything all at once. 

“Y/n,” You hadn’t even believed she was real in the first place, having a brain tumor that made you see things seemed like a more logical explanation. But when she spoke, you knew it was her. You’d lost touch of her voice as time had passed, although you’d never forgotten how it made you feel. But now, it was too much. She spoke, and she said your name in her tone. She moved, it was only a step, but she moved. And she was alive. Alive. You took a step, slowly, tasting if your legs could still carry you. Then, you realized you didn’t care. You would crawl, would drag yourself forwards with you teeth, if you had to. You bolted, it was only a few steps, but you’d never moved that quick in your life. 

Her arms opened right in time for you to stumble into. Your arms around her neck as you pulled her closer. She was here. You hadn’t felt the tears until you couldn’t see anymore. You buried your face in her neck. She smelt the same. You’d forgotten what she smelt like; her shampoo was still branded in your memory, but it didn’t smell the same in the bottle. 

You wished you could say something, anything at all, but you’d swallowed all your words, and none wanted to come out. You stayed like that for a long while. The team left the room, giving you some privacy. 

Eventually, you found words. Or, only one, at least. “Emily,” You whispered, your voice breaking. “You’re-” How were you supposed to finish that? 

“I’m alive,” She said softly. You pulled back a bit, bringing your hand to her chest. She was alive, her heart was beating fast and steady, and your breath hitched. Tears rolled over your cheeks, and you were sure you’d drown in them. 

“But, how?” You managed to get out, not ready to let go yet. 

“I- it was too dangerous to stay.” That didn’t answer anything, but your mind wasn’t ready to ask those questions. 

“You’re back?” You whispered, leaning your forehead against hers, giving her time to pull away. Seven months was a long time, a lot could have happened. But she didn’t pull away, she threaded her fingers through your hair, it felt familiar. 

“I am,” She said, letting a tear slip. “I’m not leaving you again, I’m so sorry.” 

You sniffed, realizing you felt relieve, happiness. “Can I kiss you?” 

She looked at you, glancing for only a moment, but it was so familiar and new at the same time you wanted to scream. Then, she connected your lips. It tasted like tears, your lipbalm, and the lipstick Emily couldn’t be spotted without. Your hands moved to her face, pulling her even closer. You couldn’t imagine letting her go, not anytime soon. 

“I’ve missed you, I’ve mourned you,” You began, not knowing how to finish as you closed your eyes. Emily wiped at your tears, and her hands were warm, they were warm, and pulsing with blood, and were alive. 

“I’m sorry.” She seemed at loss of words, too. It was okay, you could talk later. She was alive, and she was back. 

“I’m just glad you’re back.” You chocked out, sniffing before smiling softly. 

She smiled, too. Your heart and stomach made backflips, and it was as of you were falling in love all over again. “I’m back home.” She said, looking you in the eye, and it was hard to miss what she meant. 

You kissed her again, not able to put all the emotions in it. “I-” You tried, but failed. It was too much; you were feeling too much, and too little at the same time. The only thing you were aware of, was that your chest felt too small for your heart. 

“We can talk later,” She muttered. “When we’re… recovered.” 

You chuckled, your grip not faltering. “Give me a year, then.” 

She closed her eyes with a smile leaning into your touch. You could sense the million sorry’s she wanted to say, but couldn’t yet. You wanted to say that it wasn’t okay, but you couldn’t. She was back, and that was all that mattered.

“I love you.” You said. Your voice surprisingly strong. “I can’t wait to give you flowers instead of…” 

“We’ll talk this out, okay?” She took a step back, and instantly, you could think a bit more clear. “I love you too, just… I haven’t stopped loving you.” 

“Are you coming home?” You whispered, not sure if you wanted to know the answer. “I still have your stuff. Most is stored, but-” 

She looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected you to. “You- you want me to?” 

“Yeah,” You looked at her in disbelief. “You’re alive, I missed you in the house. Missed you in the kitchen, missed you when I slept-” As your emotions were settling, you began to realize you maybe weren’t so okay. But how could you be mad when she was right in front of you? When she was breathing and well?

“I’m-” 

“Don’t,” You closed your eyes, fighting the tears. “I love you. Come home, please.” 

She hesitated, before she nodded. “Okay, I’ll come home.” Home sounded foreign on her tongue, and you were curious about all the what’s, why’s, how’s… but now wasn’t the time. You didn’t know when would be the time, but you were so relieved, happy, shaken, by her being back. It felt as a gift, as if someone wanted you to see all color again, as if someone wanted you to have the life you pictured you’d have. And now, maybe you could. 

You smiled at her, a smile you should have given her earlier; love, admiration, relief, sadness… everything was in your smile, but it only told Emily how much you cared, even after all this time, even after what she put you through. 

She was thankful; thankful for you, for waiting, in a way. She was thankful, that she could come back home. You might see it as a house, but to her, being in a room with you was home, although your house was better than the briefing room. 

It wasn’t okay yet, but when she smiled back, you knew it would be. Everything would be okay again. You’d follow her to the end of the world, would never let her go again. She was okay, and that meant you were okay. There were things to talk about, but they had to wait. You were just glad to have her back; to have that extra pint of color back, that extra dose of smiles, and that extra dose of love. 

[shsl-fluff]

DR2 boys with a S/O who’s on the chubbier side and is a insecure about it? I love this blog by the way!

Sdr2 boys with a S/O who's insecure about their body!

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

Fuyohiko was never really in tune with others' emotions, or his own.

He didn't really pick up on how self conscious you were until one night you spelt it all out for him when you were drunk

After that, he tried to find ways to comfort you when you looked upset about your body. 

"Don't say that shit about yourself, (Y/N)" he said suddenly, looking at you.

"You're not fat or ugly or whatever the fuck you keep thinking you are. You aren't. You're so beautiful" 

He kissed you, holding you close. 

"I'm not good at talking about this shit… about confidence or whatever… but you're fucking stunning to me."

"And please let me know if you feel upset about your body. I'll tell you this all again, you know. And… find shit to help you feel better"

He truly did mean the best, yet had problems verbalizing it. 

He started to throw in more bashful compliments towards you whenever you looked nervous.

"Your hair is nice today" "I love your smile" "that outfit looks pretty on you"

He wasn't used to helping others with emotional help, but was more than willing to learn 

Gundham Tanaka

Gundham never really cared about the size or shape of your mortal vessel. 

That's why he was caught off guard when, before your date night, you said that you were afraid your dress made you look bad

"My gorgeous majesty, why do you think that?" He asked, taking your hand

You were starting to cry as he pulled you into his arms. 

"My love, how about instead of going out, I pamper you at home?"

You nodded shakily

He bought take out and put on your favorite shows and brought the devas to cuddle with you.

He kissed you all over and over, something which he didn't normally do. 

He didn't often initiate touch with you (or anyone) but did love it when you did hold each other close.

"My (Y/N)?" He asked after a while

"Yes?"

"I… don't understand something about your mortal ways…"

"What do you mean?"

"How could someone like you feel so much shame for your body? Your body will not follow you to the afterlife, it is just a mere vessel for your spirit."

You listened to his musing quietly. You weren't sure what to say, and he just kept going.

"Especially someone whose beauty rivals those of the vessels of succubi and incubi"

"I... I don't know, Gundam…"

"And… My love… If you ever do feel this way again, tell me so I may treat you like the diety you are"

Hajime Hinata

Hajime was always self-conscious, being in such a great school with no talent to speak of.

He was able to pick up on your unease when he spent time with you and the others before any of the others. 

"Hey, (Y/N)? Are you alright? You look… upset"

You told him you were fine and didn't want to talk about it

"Well… if you need to, you have my phone number, ok?"

A few weeks later around midnight, you needed to talk about it. 

You called him, sobbing your heart out. 

"H-hey, hey! Calm down, okay? What's wrong?"

You let your emotions spill. About how you felt large and ugly, and the sore thumb of the group. 

He listened to you talk for hours, comforting you the whole time. 

"Don't worry, (Y/N). No one thinks you're any worse looking, ok? I know that me just saying that won't cure all of your anxieties, but.. I hope it helps"

Whenever you looked anxious, he would pull you aside and help you calm down, telling you how no one saw you any differently than any of your peers 

You two started to hang out on your own after a while, and you slowly felt yourself gaining feelings for him. 

You ended up asking him out, and he told you that he actually loved you too.

It was so lovely to spend time with him

He loved giving you gifts and often showered you with compliments

Imposter (Byakuya)

Byakuya noticed how nervous you looked in your dress/tux during date night at a fancy restaurant. 

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" He asked with his cold voice

"I don't know, Byakuya… I just don't feel comfortable in this. It makes me look to… big…" you kept your eyes down

He got a waitress quickly and got the food packed in boxes and left with you. 

"Come along, (Y/N). We should go somewhere quieter" 

You followed him, quietly asking "are you mad at me? I'm sorry"

"Of course I'm not mad, there's nothing to be sorry for. Let's talk"

He sat down on a bench and you sat next to him. He looked you in the eyes.

"(Y/N), don't ever be ashamed of yourself. If you don't like your appearance you can change it to be one you love, but being heftier or traditionally unattractive is nothing to be ashamed of."

"And if it makes you feel any better, I think you look amazing… but that's the thing. You shouldn't listen to me, or anyone else. No one decides how you should love yourself but you" 

Byakuya knew he should have listened to his own words, but he had no identity to begin with with…

You guys went home early that night and spent the night at home together. 

After that, Byakuya started to go shopping with you more and helped you find clothes that you felt nicer in

He wanted you to feel comfortable in your own body

He wanted you to feel comfortable with your own identity.

Kazuichi Soda

Soda loved every single thing about you, including your body

He loved showering you in gifts and praise, especially about your body after he found out you were so self conscious

He would compliment you every single day about something new

It never felt forced or fake, either. 

It was all genuine and from the heart

He always did what he could to cheer you up when you were upset. He made you a few little toys to help keep you distracted by intrusive thoughts when you were alone

Whenever you went clothes shopping together, he would shower you with compliments.

"Are you sure this doesn't make me look… big?"

"Of course not! Why would I lie to you, (Y/N)? It makes you look cute/handsome, just like normal"

"It does?"

"Of course"

When you were at home together, Soda loved holding you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and just staying like that for a while, rambling to you.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

He knew that you wouldn't be instantly happy with yourself or your body, yet he wanted to help

Nagito Komaeda

Even before he was in a relationship with you, Nagito could tell you were always a bit anxious

He was a friend of yours for a few years before you finally asked him out

You both started to open up to each other a lot more

Nagito started staying at your house for longer periods of time, too.

One day, you just started crying to him.

Crying about how you hated your body 

He just held you close and rubbed your back

When you finished ranting, he whispered soft, sweet words in your ears. 

Words about how beautiful your body is, how sweet and kind and generous you are. 

After that, he would make sure to check on you when you looked upset.

He would go out of his way to compliment you more than normal.

You both had the habit of talking bad about yourselves, and heIp catch each other before either of you get to upset  

When his luck was causing problems and he didn't want to be around you, you would talk to each other for hours on the phone

It was really comforting to know that you were never alone when you needed love.

Nekomaru Nidai

Nekomaru was always concerned about your health

To you, it was a shock someone as fit as him would ask you out on a date, and then another after, and became your boyfriend

You had honestly assumed it was some sick trick, or out of pity

One day, while you were walking together, you decided to ask.

"How could you like someone like me, Nekomaru? I'm just… ugly"

He looked at you in shock before sitting down under a tree, patting the grass next to him

"Why would you think that you're ugly, (Y/N)? Even if you're on the larger side, it doesn't make you look worse than others!"

"But you care so much about health, and I don't look healthy"

He let out a hearty, loud laugh. "BMI is bullshit, (Y/N)! Lots of healthy people have high BMIs, and some of your ability to lose weight is in your genes!"

His laugh warmed your heart. You just smiled at him. 

"And if you do want to feel healthier, then you're doing all the right things! Taking these walks with me, drinking and eating everyday, pacing yourself, even getting out of bed on hard days" 

He ruffled your hair, smiling. 

You two sat there for a little while, staring at the sky before getting back up and finishing your walk

He would give you more opportunities to join his exercises or design routines for you if you were concerned about your health

On his break days, you would both cuddle up on the couch and watch TV, snacking on whatever, not caring about all the little calories. 

Teruteru Hanamura

Teruteru honestly had a bit of a preference for larger bodies

Not to a point of it being a fetish, of course. He just found them pretty.

That being said, he didn't fall for you for your body.

He knew your body made you anxious, so he showered you with praise and love. 

He liked doing so in public to see how flustered you'd get,

but if it made you really uncomfortable, he would mostly keep affection at home, throwing in just a little bit of PDA when he felt particularly playful

Every day he would ask you what you wanted for dinner

Some days you would sheepishly say that you wanted something, but were afraid it would make you look larger

After assuring you that being large wasn't a bad thing, he would make you what you wanted. 

His food always cheered you up when you felt self-conscious 

[haberdashing]

Heart, Don’t Fail Me Now

After Jon calls Martin his boyfriend, Martin has a confession to make about how that term isn’t entirely accurate.

on AO3

The mortal garden was well behind them now, though what waited for them up ahead was still unclear, Martin and Jon walking together in the eerie space where one domain bled into another.

The calm before the storm, perhaps. Or after it, when the smell of petrichor seeps out from rain-laden strips of grass. Or both, even, the eye of the hurricane, with thick storm walls on both sides but a brief moment of respite in between them.

Things were relatively calm here, was the point, whatever flowery metaphor Martin chose to use to describe it. The two of them hadn’t spoken much since Jon explained his reasoning behind killing Jude Perry but not Arthur Nolan, explained that he didn’t seem to be helping people no matter what he did, explained that getting rid of other avatars had been out of revenge more than anything else. The silence between them now wasn’t an unpleasant one, though, not exactly.

But something had been bothering Martin since before the two of them left the mortal garden, and he wasn’t sure how long he could go without saying anything about it, so he cleared his throat and prepared to break the peace.

“Jon?”

“Martin?” Jon’s eyes locked on Martin’s in an instant, and Martin could read them like an open book: first wary and worried, searching for threats that had somehow gone unseen, then warming up at the sight of Martin still whole, still unharmed, and only somewhat anxious--was the color getting brighter, or was that just a trick of the lighting?

Martin thought he had never really understood the old expression that the eyes were the window to the soul until after getting to know Jon.

“I- I want to talk to you about something. Something you said to Jared back there.”

Jon stopped walking, and Martin followed his cue, the two standing face to face. “What is it?”

Martin paused, hesitated, biting his lip for a long minute, wanting to savor the moment before he explained his thoughts. They were in the middle of an apocalyptic wasteland, and yet Martin felt--no, Martin knew--that what he was about to say might upend his life far more than any statement Jon read.

“You- you know how Jared asked if I was your boyfriend, and you said I am?”

Martin was pretty sure that even if all he could see of Jon was his eyes, he still would be able to identify every one of Jon’s emotions as his expression flickered from one to the next. Wide-eyed confusion, first. Anxiety, in which he couldn’t quite meet Martin’s gaze, his eyes looking slightly off to the side instead. Concern. Horror. Finally, a sorrow that looked dangerously close to grief.

Jon couldn’t quite keep his voice steady as he responded, though Martin could tell he was making an effort to do so. “Are, are you not-”

Martin’s stomach lurched as he realized where he’d gone wrong, how Jon had been led to entirely the wrong conclusion here. “It’s not- not what you think. We’re still together, or, or dating, if you can call it that...” Martin made a vague hand gesture pointing out their surroundings; anything that most people would consider a “date” was well out of their reach now. “At least I, I want us to be. And I hope once I’m done explaining, that you still want us to be too, that this doesn’t change anything between us...”

Jon’s expression softened, the grief replaced with idle curiosity mixed with confusion--a not-uncommon look for Jon, especially these days. “What do you mean, then?”

“The issue--or, or issue makes it sound bigger than I mean, but--it’s not about us being together, it’s the word. I don’t think I’m your boyfriend.”

Jon considered this for a moment, tilting his head to one side slightly as he thought. “It does sound a bit juvenile, I suppose. Though ‘manfriend’ doesn’t have the right ring to it, I don’t think...”

Martin laughed weakly. “No, no it doesn’t.”

And Martin could see a world where he left it there, maybe ribbed Jon some more about using such a childish term to describe their relationship, didn’t touch on the bigger issue behind it all, didn’t rock the boat. That would be safer. It wouldn’t be the full truth, but it would be safer. The calm would remain undisturbed.

But then again, Martin had already rejected a life full of safety and calm and letting his true self fade away into oblivion in the process, and he had no intentions of going back on that particular decision.

So Martin made himself speak up again.

“Even if it did, though, manfriend wouldn’t really be any better. Because I’m not- I’m not a man. Or a boy, for that matter. I’m not male.”

“Hmm.” Jon’s tone was neutral; Martin suspected that he was working hard to keep it that way, to conceal his true feelings, and he couldn’t quite read whatever was behind Jon’s eyes. “Are you female, then?”

Martin remembered a brief litany of insults hurled at him throughout his childhood--pussy, sissy, girl--and gulped.

“No, no, I- I don’t think I’m either one. I don’t think I’m anything. Does that makes sense? To just... be nothing?”

“You’re not nothing.” The chiding tone of Jon’s voice made Martin flinch, and only after, only when he saw the concern in Jon’s eyes, did he see that Jon might have interpreted things differently once again, might have thought Martin was making a comment regarding his self-esteem rather than his gender or lack thereof.

“I didn’t mean it like that, just, just gender-wise.”

“Ah. Well, then, it’s certainly possible for you to be nonbinary, perhaps agender then, though I don’t mean to force labels on you-”

Martin snorted. “If I can’t get a label from post-apocalyptic Google, where can I get one?”

“I knew those terms beforehand, actually.”

Jon went quiet rather suddenly, averting his gaze, and Martin wondered, then, whether Jon had meant to speak of his pre-existing knowledge so casually.

Had Jon known because he’d come across the terms during his own gender identity exploration, or because he had a friend who’d gone through what Martin had now, or because he’d somehow suspected the truth of Martin’s identity before Martin himself realized it, or just because he was bored one day and did in-depth research into gender identities as nonchalantly as he would do research into spelunking or alchemy or any number of other things that were just idle bits of trivia to him?

Was this the sort of burning curiosity that Jon felt just before he asked someone to tell him their story, whether they wanted to or not?

Well. Martin wasn’t going to force it out of him--he couldn’t do so as literally as Jon himself could, and he certainly didn’t want to pressure Jon into sharing anything he didn’t want to, either. Instead he just stood there and waited for the silence to become less awkward, waited for Jon to speak up again.

Jon did, eventually. “You didn’t mention this earlier.”

It wasn’t a question, certainly, but Martin wasn’t quite sure whether it was meant more as an accusation or as a simple statement of the facts. Either way, Martin could feel his cheeks heat up as he prepared to explain himself.

“I, I’m just starting to figure it all out, didn’t want to bog you down rambling about something I don’t even fully get myself yet. It’s just... all my life people have assumed I’m a man, and I just kind of took it for granted that that meant I was, didn’t think about it much until after we got to Scotland, and usually I’m fine with it, usually it doesn’t even bother me, but there’s a few terms where when they get used it gets under my skin and... and I guess boyfriend’s on that list now.”

It took Jon a moment to respond, and Martin felt like he was getting warmer and warmer by the second as he waited, like he was about ready to spontaneously combust.

“I see.”

Martin forced a grin onto his face, hoped Jon couldn’t tell how false it was. “Of course you see.”

Jon snorted in amusement, and Martin took that as a victory.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, though, Martin, whether you’ve figured it out already or not.”

“I know, I know, just... seems a bit foolish, when I don’t even mind half the assumptions, and, you know...” Martin gestured vaguely at the hellscape around them. “We’ve got a lot going on at the moment already.” 

“Still. Your feelings matter, Martin.” Jon paused. “Should I still call you Martin?”

This threw Martin off a bit, and he took a deep breath as he processed it. “That’s my name, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be, you know. If it’s too masculine, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Martin hadn’t actually considered that, and he took a moment to ponder the possibility of changing his name to something else, anything else, before shaking his head. “Think I’ll stick with it. I like the way it sounds, and I’m used to it by now, anyway.”

“Honestly, I like how it sounds too, but that’s not what’s important here.” Jon leaned over and gave Martin a quick peck on the cheek, and Martin’s mind was racing.

“You’re... you’re so calm about this.” Martin threw his hands in the air. “How can you just... accept all of this without even blinking an eye?”

Jon shrugged. “I care about you whatever your gender is, Martin. And I know what it’s like, having to come out, explain your gender, navigate all that. Guess how long it took me to settle on the name Jonathan.”

Martin squinted, looked at Jon for a long moment. “I don’t know, how long?”

“No, no, you have to guess.”

Martin hadn’t seen Jon with that particular kind of shit-eating grin on his face very often before.

“...year and a half?” Martin didn’t know how long was the norm for that sort of thing, but he padded his estimate a bit, knowing well enough that Jon was the type to overthink those sort of decisions.

Jon let out a low whistle. “Thirteen months. You were close.”

“Guess I know you pretty well, heh.”

“Guess so.” Jon tapped his fingers against his leg as he considered his next words... “Do you know... what pronouns you want to use? He still, or she, or they, or any number of neopronouns I could name for you...”

Martin didn’t know what a neopronoun was, but he did know that asking would probably get Jon rambling on about the topic for a good half hour or so--or what would be half an hour, if time worked like it should, anyway--and he wasn’t quite ready for that just yet.

“’He’ is... ‘he’ is fine, I guess? I mean, I don’t mind it, it’s done the job for thirty years now and all, I suppose. ‘She’ doesn’t sound right to me. And ‘they’... all I can think of is my old schoolteacher telling me singular they isn’t grammatically correct, and I need to stop using it in my essays.” Martin grimaced a little at that particular memory.

“Don’t worry about the grammar of it. I think the grammar’s fine, but that’s not what matters. Does it sound right to you?”

“...dunno.”

“Want me to give an example?”

Martin silently nodded in response.

Jon looked Martin right in the eyes. “Martin Blackwood is wonderful, and I love them very much, and I think they’re the only reason I can keep going anymore, that I’d give up on it all if it weren’t for them and their determination.”

Martin’s face turned hot again, but for a different reason this time around. “Stop it!”

“It’s true. All of it.” Jon was grinning again. “So what do you think?”

Martin thought about it for a moment, tried to divorce what he thought of the pronoun as applied to him from what he thought of the pronoun in general, and more specifically from Mrs. Jameson’s old reproaches when it came to his essays. It wasn’t easy to do, but once he did... “I think I like it? Not entirely sure, though.”

“That’s fine. You’ve got time to figure it out.”

“All the time in the world. Such as it is.”

Martin shot Jon a wry smile, and Jon reciprocated.

“Quite.”

“Now, about the ‘boyfriend’ thing... what other terms d’you know for that, without the, the gendered bit of it?”

Jon took a second to respond. “Joyfriend?”

Martin’s eyes widened. “Joyfriend?”

“It’s a thing! It’s a word people use!” Jon threw his arms in the air. “And it’s like boyfriend, but without, well, the boy part. And you do bring me joy, after all.”

“Still sounds weird to me, and if you thought boyfriend was juvenile, well...”

“So that’s a no, got it. What about datemate?”

Martin hummed to himself for a moment before making a wavering hand gesture. “Maybe? I like that better than joyfriend, anyway. The internal rhyme’s rather nice.”

“Alright, we can keep that in mind for later. Significant other?”

Martin wrinkled his nose and made a face. “Too proper.”

“Fair enough. Besides, I think if anyone’s going to be the significant other in this relationship, it’s me. I seem to be significant now, after all, and I’m certainly other as well.”

Martin snorted. “And to think there was a time I believed you didn’t make jokes.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you know better now.” Jon paused for a moment, hesitation clear in his expression. “What about partner?”

Jon’s eyes kept darting between Martin’s own gaze and the ground, and Martin wondered if his thoughts were consumed with the same thing his were when the term “partner” came up. It reminded Martin of Basira and Daisy immediately, and Martin glanced down at the scar Daisy had left on Jon’s neck. Their partnership was why Jon hadn’t ended up dead that day, sure, but it was also, in a sense, what had allowed things to get that far in the first place.

But then again, the two of them weren’t entirely innocent these days, either...

And that partnership between Basira and Daisy, that sense of having each other’s backs no matter what, of trusting each other come hell or high water, that was something Martin could certainly see the value in.

“Yeah, I, I think I like that one.”

Jon nodded solemnly. “Well, next time a fear avatar asks, I’ll make sure to let them know you’re my partner then.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Because it’s such a regular occurrence.”

“Better than Jude Perry thinking you’re my valet, anyway.”

“Right, the valet for the car you definitely have.” Martin gestured to the space around them, which was entirely lacking in cars.

They’d had a car, once, back at the safehouse. Martin knew now that taking it wouldn’t have actually sped up this process any, had heard Jon’s speeches about how “the journey will be the journey” loud and clear, but still, part of him wondered now what would have happened if they’d taken the car with them when they’d started.

Would the car have insulated them from the worst of it, protected them from the horrors that surrounded them?

Would the car have broken down early on, as any normal car would when confronted with the obstacles that surrounded them now, having to be abandoned amidst the chaos?

Or would the car have become an eldritch being in its own right, like the safehouse was, feeding on the fear of those within it?

Martin shuddered at the thought and decided he was probably better off not having found out the hard way.

“Martin Blackwood, my partner.” Jon reached for Martin’s hand, and as Martin reciprocated the gesture, intertwining his fingers with Jon’s as he had so many times over now, Jon gave Martin’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I rather like the sound of that.”

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Back so soon? ( Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader )

Pairing: Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A lil mention of nsfw, some cursing, not much tbh.

Type: One shot

Request:  billy loomix x reader and they've been dating for months now and she keeps almost telling him i love you and the waiting for it gets on his nerves until he finally says it first? thank you!!!

Word Count: 1,622

Prompt: Billy says I love you first.

Notes: I hope you enjoyed this! I had fun, still a lil insecure in my writing but this is all for fun! Billy makes me soft UWU

You’ve been dating Billy for several months, it hadn’t even felt like a long time, the excitement was still vibrant.

You could say you were still stiff in the honeymoon phase, you’d spend plentiful time together, going out on movie dates, laying out on the grass near a lake at the park, going out to eat or just walking around various stores, whatever you felt like doing.

Billy was always making sure you were satisfied to say the least, learning to pick up on your body language, when you were uncomfortable, when you were annoyed, when you were scared, when something made you feel good, when something made you laugh, he was always watching you intently on your reactions.

Expressing your love was quite the challenge for you, you had little to no experience in the dating scene, while Billy had plentiful more than you, which only made you more nervous.

You were a newbie at this, but something about Billy captivated you, the way he seemed to always step in when you needed him most, always making sure you were safe, he was a bit of a helicopter boyfriend, but you didn’t mind.

Actually you were growing to like it, a lot.

You were feeling significantly less lonely with Billy around, but you were still nervous. Surely he must’ve picked up on you inexperience, or maybe he didn’t.

Sometimes he’d pull you in for a kiss, which you would happily partake in, but when he seemed to crave more, your body would shut down. You were attracted to Billy, you knew you were, but you also knew you were dreadfully anxious, never letting him get more than two or three kisses out of you in one sitting.

The most you’ve ever gotten carried away was one night when your parents weren’t home, Billy came over, you both hid away in your room, watching horror movies under your blankets and pillows, when Billy kissed your cheek.

You turned to him and pressed your lips against his, he then took the liberty to hoist you slowly onto his lap, you barely started parting your lips until it was too much for you, shaking, your breathing getting cut short rather quickly.

Billy took note of this then turning you over and laying you on your back and slowly laying himself next to you while sighing softly apologizing for his overstepping, but you slid up with your back against the headboard assuring him he didn’t do anything wrong.

He didn’t argue with your attempt to soothe him, but he still never tried to make a move on you again, instead allowing you to take the lead.

Which was a terrible idea, but you were too embarrassed to admit what you were feeling and why you were behaving in this manner.

Tonight you had a date with Billy, he suggested a nice place to get some Thai food, which you were excited for, well anything he suggested seemed like the a fun thing to do.

Neither of you were ever much for the elegant dates, Billy told you not to worry about dressing up, it would just be one of your casual dates, which you followed his suggestions, dressing yourself in a cozy outfit, you peaked in the mirror fixing some of your loose strands of hair and shifting your shirt around to look and feel comfortable.

As you heard a car pull up in your driveway, you peaked through your blinds, seeing your boyfriends familiar car. You then pulled away and made your way towards your door, Billy met you halfway, greeting you with a soft squeeze.

He kissed your forehead as he usually did, looking down to you as you looked up to him, his lips formed into a small smile, never looking away from you, like he wanted to remember this moment and every moment always.

Endless hours of laughter, soft touches, subtle kisses, all came to end where it first began, right at path to your doorstep. You dreaded these moments of silence, knowing it should be filled with I love yous, all replaced with the serenity of the night and sometimes if you were brave, comments of how much fun you had.

Tonight was no different, Billy locked his fingers with yours, looking to you as you came to a stopping point, he would occasionally wait for you to say something, sometimes you would, sometimes you wouldn’t.

You couldn’t help it, you were nervous. You really liked Billy, hell, you loved him, you may not have as much experience in dating, but you gather up some kind of grip as to how you felt.

There you both stood, under the blanket of the night with twinkling stars to be seen in the distance if you focused long enough, small winds breezing their way through, evidence they were there were displayed through Billy’s moving strands of hair swaying soothingly.

You could tell he was anticipating something, you knew exactly what he was waiting for, and though it felt right, you just couldn’t bring yourself to give it to him, much less talk to him about it.

What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if he thought you were moving too soon? So many what ifs disheveled in your mind.

“I had fun.” You broke the silence with words neither you or him wanted to hear. Billy smiled to you in a defeated manner, followed by nodding as he looked down to the pavement. You felt your stomach churn at his reaction “Yeah, I did too.” He replied in a soft tone, he was conflicted, not knowing whether to lay it all out on the table or just wait until you’re more comfortable.

He chose to wait, kissing your forehead softly, you held your breath as he did so, maybe you could just drop it then, but he didn’t even wait, instead he whispered a goodnight, then following the path back to his car.

You stood there for a minute, arguing with yourself internally to go after him, but the thinking it’d be better to save it for a different occasion.

Was it a big deal? Maybe not, but it was for you.

A few hours had passed, you were in your room, knees brought up to your chest, you kept replaying what just happened, wondering if he was upset with you. Did you mess up? Probably.

You were so frustrated with yourself.

Sitting there listening to the radio shoo away the dead silence, you told yourself you’d make yourself admit how you felt tomorrow. No more running, avoiding or hiding this. What if something happened to you or him? And he’d never know how you felt because you were too insecure to admit it.

If he didn’t feel the same way, then you could just cut it off right there, which that made you nervous of course you didn’t want to end it with Billy, never in a million years.

It was then you heard some rustling in the trees, which frightened you at first, a pair of hands then gripped onto the frame of your window, it was Billy.

You let out a sigh of relief, not knowing how to react, you were in your pj’s, fresh face, ready to go to bed, Billy however was still in what he was wearing earlier, a white t shirt, presumably the same jeans and shoes.

“(Y/N)” He breathed out, a dorky smile came across his face, it was then that you craved to tell him you loved him. “Billy.” You responded with a soft giggle, swinging your legs over to the other side of the bed, you shuffled over to him, pulling him in through the small window (in comparison to his size, you could easily slide in and out the frame, he, however needed some help.)

You brought your index finger towards your lips, hushing him from making too much noise, your folks were scattered around the downstairs. You leaped over towards your door, locking it to avoid anyone interrupting your unexpected guest.

Billy seemed to be beaming, only to see you, you looked back to him “What are you doing here Billy, back so soon?” You grinned deviously, teasing him was one of favorite things to do.

“You know I can’t get enough of you.” He chuckled quietly, matching your volume level. Your cheeks then warmed up “Billy.” You whined in a careful tone.

“(Y/N).” He interrupted, walking forward to lead you towards the end of your bed, as the back of your legs hit the end, you had no other option than to sit down, looking up to him.

Confusion was written all across your face as he got down to your level, bringing himself to both of his knees, looking at you directly, his dark brown eyes mesmerizing you as always, you didn’t even notice he took both of your hands in his.

He was rubbing small circles across the back part of hands, while keeping his gaze on you. “(Y/N.) I don’t want to overstep, but I can’t keep it from you, I love you.”

There was then a pause.

You looked at Billy and though he didn’t explicitly show it, he was nervous, not knowing what you would say or how you’d interact, but it didn’t take long for you to breathe a sigh of relief, you leaned in to kiss him, to which he immediately kissed back, wrapping his arms around you.

You felt your heart thumping against your chest, you were sure his was as well, although it was only a few seconds, it felt like a sweet forever moment.

“Billy-” you whispered out of breath “I love you too.”

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Lost Chapter 33

Warnings: same as the other chapters

Rating: SFW

You and the gang exited the Ninth Floor world entrance and had entered the world of 100 Acre Wood. You and Sora came to Winnie the Pooh's house, and found Pooh sitting on a log.

“What's wrong, little fella?” Sora asked. 

“I'm looking for my friends,” Pooh said. 

“Are they around here? It looks like nobody's here,” you said. 

“Oh. Then perhaps I'm looking for nobody.”

“You're looking for nobody?” Sora asked.

“I suppose I must be. But, they don't seem to be anywhere.” Pooh started rubbing his tummy. 

“And all this searching is making my tummy rumble. Hmm...I wonder if there's any honey about. Oh, but if I stop to eat, I shall first have to stop searching,” he said. 

“Why don't we look for your friends together?” you asked. 

“For nobody, you mean?” You and Sora sat down on the log. 

“No, for your friends. They might be around here. Let's find them together,” Sora said. 

“Oh, are you looking for my friends, too?” Pooh asked.

“No, but we’re looking for some friends of our own,” you said. 

“And are they friends who know my friends?” 

“I’m not sure, Pooh,” Sora said as he and you stood up.

“But I know what it's like to miss your friends. So why don't we look for them together?” he said. 

“I'd like that,” Pooh said. You and Sora walked behind Pooh's house and noticed something on the ground.

“Huh?” you and Sora asked. Piglet was hiding behind one of the shrubs. When he looked out and saw you and Sora, he became scared. You and Sora noticed him and walked to him, but Piglet ran behind another shrub. You and Sora eventually found Piglet behind one of the shrubs.

“Ooooh! Oh no! Oh, dear! Don't mind me,” Piglet said. 

“You're not Pooh's friend?” you asked. 

“Well, I... Um... I mean, I'm not NOT Pooh's friend... I'm...” Pooh walked over to the three of you. 

“Why, hello there, Piglet,” he said. 

“Oh! It's you, Pooh! I'm so relieved... I finally found someone! I got separated from the others. And I was so worried, I didn't know what to do,” Piglet said. 

“That explains why you were so fidgety,” Sora said. 

“Piglet, why don't you come with us to look for the rest of our friends?” Pooh asked. 

“What? Oh my, I don't know... Ohh... What should I do...” Piglet said. 

“Guess he doesn't want to come,” you said. You, Sora, and Pooh started to walk away.

“Wait! Please!” Piglet said. 

“Have you decided to join us, Piglet?” Pooh asked. 

“Well, no. I'm... I'm still thinking. But before you got here, I found something strange in the shrubs... I thought it might help you to find everyone else...” You and Sora learned Confuse. You, Sora, and Pooh went through Rabbit's garden and were about to leave when a pumpkin rolled down the path.

“Watch out!” Sora said. You and Sora jumped out of the way and the pumpkin hit Pooh, which caused him to roll back through the gate. Pooh got up and you and Sora walked to the gate.

“That was close! Are you okay, Pooh?” you asked. 

“Yes...I seem to be,” Pooh said. 

“Where did that pumpkin come from?” Sora asked. 

“Yoo-hoo!” someone said. Rabbit appeared from the end of the path, and he walked over to you and Sora.

“Hello, Rabbit,” Pooh said. 

“Oh, I'm glad you're here! Would you help me sort the vegetables from my garden?” Rabbit said. 

“So the pumpkin was yours...” you said. You and Sora talked to Rabbit. 

“Do you want to help sort the vegetables?” Rabbit asked. 

“Sure, We'll help!” Sora said. You and Sora helped Rabbit sort his vegetables.

“Thank you for the help. Please take this, won't you?” Rabbit said. You and Sora learned Cross-slash+. You, Sora, and Pooh left the garden and came to a grassy hill with a large tree. The three of you noticed three balloons tied to a log.

“I wonder what these balloons are for?” you asked. You, Sora and Pooh took the balloons and released into the air. The three of you rode the balloons up to the top of the tree, collecting honey along the way. At the top of the tree, you, Sora, and Pooh met Owl.

“Hoo! Look who made it all the way up here!” Owl said. You, Sora, Pooh, and Owl all gather back at the bottom of the tree

“Are you all right, Pooh?” Owl asked. 

“Oh yes, Owl. I found it rather fun,” Pooh said. 

“Maybe you could use a balloon to look for your friends,” Sora said. 

“Hoo! Hoo! You might think so, young man. But serious problems arise when you arrive at your destination,” Owl said. 

“Huh?” you and Sora asked. 

“Once you find your friends, how do you get down to them? You see, a balloon goes only where the wind blows. Which is usually up! What if you saw your friends, but the wind kept them just out of reach? I'd rather have to keep looking for my friends, than find them and not be able to reach them.”

“You've got a point,” you said. 

“If you want to find someone, you'd best do it on foot. It can be quite exciting to stumble across a friend where you least expect them!”

“Well, that is how I feel---when I stumble across some honey!” Pooh said. 

“That's the spirit, Pooh! Keep moving and keep looking,” Owl said. 

“Thank you, Owl. That's what I'll do. My tummy is anxious for me to find that honey.”

“Don't worry, we'll help Pooh find his friends,” Sora said.

“Splendid! Here's something to speed you on your way,” Owl said. You and Sora learned Firaga Burst. Owl flew away. You, Sora, and Pooh came to a clearing with trees and tree stumps. The three of you saw Tigger bouncing on the tree stumps. Tigger then jumped off and talked to the three of you.

“Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Say, how would you like to bounce with me?” he said. You, Sora, and Pooh bounced on the tree stumps with Tigger.

“Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Not bad at all!” Tigger said. 

“We were just trying to bounce like you, Tigger,” Pooh said. 

“I'm surprised you could keep up with me.”

“Well, we can bounce with the best of them, now!” you said. 

“Is that so? Then let's see you do this!” Tigger said. Tigger jumped from stump to stump, somersaulting in mid-air both forwards and backwards.

“Whoa!” you and Sora said. Tigger jumped back to the three of you.

“What do you think of that?” he asked. 

“I could never...” Sora said.

“Neither could I...” you said. 

“Awww, you don't have to do it like me! Bouncing is best when you do it your own way! 'Cause I'm Tigger, and you're Sora, and you’re (Y/N)! Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!” Tigger said. Tigger bounced away, but Pooh stopped him before he could leave.

“Tigger, I think you dropped something,” Pooh said.

“Oh, that? I found it on top of a tree when I was bouncing. You can have it, Sora and (Y/N). Kind of weighs me down when I'm bouncing!” Tigger said. Tigger bounced away. You and Sora learned Idyll Romp. You, Sora and Pooh continued into a muddy area, with a big shrub of grass and weeds in the middle of the mud. The three of you walked over to a hole surrounded by 3 ledges. The hole had wind coming out of it.

“That's an awfully blustery hole...” Sora said. The three of you walked over to the hole and the wind propelled you three high into the air. The three of you floated down and landed in the middle of the big shrub. Roo came out of it. You, Sora, and Pooh followed.

“Hello there, Roo. What were you doing here?” Pooh said. 

“I was so busy looking for Tigger, that I was blown away by the wind, and fell down here!” Roo said. 

“And you got stuck?”

“No. I was waiting for Tigger... ...so we can ride the blustery wind together! So, if Tigger rides the wind here, this is where I'll be! It sure will surprise Tigger. Don't you think?”

“But what if he doesn't fall here?” you asked. 

“Hmm...yes, if Tigger rides the wind, his bounces might bounce him even further away,” Pooh said. 

“Well, I was getting a little lonely and tired of waiting for him,” Roo said. 

“Instead of waiting, why don't you see if you can find him?” Sora asked. 

“You're right! That's a great idea!” Roo started to leave, but he came back.

“By the way, I found this in the shrubs. Why don't you take it?” he said. You and Sora received a Mega-Ether card. You, Sora, and Pooh climbed up onto a ledge and found Eeyore, who's lost his tail.

“Lost my tail again. It figures...” Eeyore said. 

“Do you know where you lost it?” you asked. 

“Oh yum! I found it,” Pooh said. Pooh was over by a a hole in a tree.

“I knew if I just listened to my tummy it would find some honey,” Pooh said. 

“Probably upset the bees, though. Taking their honey, that is,” Eeyore said. The four of you got honey from the hole in the tree, and you and Sora got rid of the bees with his Keyblade and your dagger. Pooh ruan into a tree and Eeyore's tail fell out from the top of a branch. Pooh got up.

“Oh, bother... My head...” he said.

“Well, much obliged, Pooh,” Eeyore said. 

“I'm sure I'm obliged to you too, Eeyore. But...um...for what?” 

“For running into that tree and getting my tail back for me.”

“Oh but, I was just trying to get away from those bees. And keep up with Sora and (Y/N).”

“Well anyhow, you helped me. Thanks.”

“And we were just trying to get rid of the bees. It was an accident that we found your tail,” Sora said.

“An accident. It figures. Nobody would help me on purpose. But I'm still obliged. Thank you, Pooh, (Y/N), and Sora,” Eeyore said. 

“You're welcome, Eeyore,” Pooh said.

“Here's something for you.”

“Hey, it's okay, Eeyore. It was just an accident,” you said. 

“I know, but this fell down along with my tail. It's the accidental part of my thank you.” You and Sora received an Elixir card. You, Sora, and Pooh came to a log in the middle of a grassy field.

“I guess we can't go any farther. So Pooh, wasn't it more fun looking for friends together?” Sora said. 

“Oh yes, Sora. It was. And I'd like you two to have this. Thank you for helping me,” Pooh said. Pooh sat down on the grass.

“Whew... I've walked so far, I think I need a little rest. If only I had a honey pot to keep me company...” he said. 

“...Well, we'd better be going,” you said. 

“Where to?” 

“To look for our friends,” Sora said. 

“Then I shall help you look for them, too,” Pooh said. 

“That's okay, Pooh. You should stay here,” you said. 

“You mean...this is goodbye?” Pooh asked. 

“No way! We'll always know where to find you,” Sora said. 

‘If we don't forget...” Sora thought. Pooh got up.

“Don't worry, Sora and (Y/N). You can count on me. Even if you forget Winnie the Pooh, I won't forget you two,” he said. 

“Thanks, Pooh,” you said. You and Sora received a Bambi card and left 100 Acre Wood. You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy entered the Ninth Floor Exit Hall. The four of you looked around for Riku but he wasn’t there.

“Where'd Riku go?” Donald asked. 

“Guess he must've finally got tired of fightin' with ya,” Goofy said to you and Sora. 

“I sure hope so,” Sora said. The four of you left the Exit Hall. Meanwhile, Axel, Larxene, and Vexen were in the castle's crystal ballroom.

“So what's going on, Vexen? Your Riku was supposed to counter Sora. What's he waiting for? Where is he?” Larxene said. Vexen got angry at Larxene.

“He's hiding somewhere to lure Sora deeper into the castle, right? I suppose we should just leave it at that, you know,” Axel said. 

“A-ha! Oh, I see now! I would have never guessed that. So sorry, Vexen,” Larxene said. 

“Silence!” Vexen said. 

“Predictable response. Forget it. Men without hearts are so boring.”

“You're one to talk. As if you have such a heart to speak of yourself.”

“That's enough,” someone said. The hooded man from earlier had entered the room.

“Marluxia!” Vexen said. Marluxia took off his hood and revealed his pink hair.

“Vexen, the simple fact is that your project was a failure. You'd best not disappoint us again,” he said. 

“Disappoint YOU? You go too far! In this Organization, you're No. 11! I'm No. 4 and I will not have you---” Vexen said. Marluxia pointed his scythe at Vexen, causing him to gasp.

“I've been entrusted this castle and Naminé by our leader. Defying me will be seen as treason against the Organization,” Marluxia said. 

“‘Traitors are eliminated.’ I believe that's what the rules say,” Axel said. 

“Who needs a half-baked good-for-nothing, anyway?” Larxene asked. 

“Ng...” Vexen said. (why did i get butterflies writing that?)

“Vexen, you cannot win against Sora,” Marluxia said.

“Pity to be so ignorant. As you're only able to see the surface of things, I should not expect you to appreciate my true might,” Vexen said. 

“Oh?” Marluxia put away his scythe. 

“Then let us watch as you prove it,” he said. 

“What?” Vexen asked. 

“None of us wish to be suspicious of a comrade.” 

“Your insincerity is comforting.” Vexen disappeared through a Dark Corridor.

“You give a challenge like that to Vexen and he'll seriously want to eliminate Sora,” Axel said. 

“That would be an unfortunate denouement,” Marluxia said. He walked over to Naminé and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“What to do? Your hero is soon to be wiped from existence. But I believe there is a certain promise that he made you. Isn't that right, Naminé?” he said.

“...Yes,” Naminé said. 

~~~~

You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy entered the Tenth Floor.

“WOW! The tenth floor... We've gotten up pretty high,” Donald said. 

“And that must mean we've lost ten whole floors' worth of our memories. Sora, (Y/N), it's still not too late. Don't you think we should turn back?” Jiminy said. 

“Can't do it...because...that would break an old promise that we made,” you said. 

“An old promise? What would that be?”

“On the islands, we promised Naminé---that we'd keep her safe, no matter what. But we forgot it... we didn't remember until we started forgetting everything else! A promise between the two of us... That's why we can't leave. Now that we remember the promise, we have to keep it,” Sora said. You nodded in agreement. 

“Of course. We understand, guys.” You were about to head up to the next floor but another headache came at you. This time, it was more painful than the others. 

“Ngh...” you groaned. 

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Sora asked. You fell to your knees, holding your head. Goofy noticed your dagger was glowing and picked it up. 

“Look, her dagger’s glowin’,” he said. Donald tried using his magic to help you but it wasn’t working. 

~~~~

Flashes of Scala ad Caelum came into view but there was also another castle that looked a lot like it. The man who you saw holding baby you was talking with a woman. 

“Please, Ira. We must protect the spirits. We can’t let anyone know of their location,” the woman said. 

“Alright. But as long as you stay safe,” Ira said. 

“I will.” You saw that on her belt was your dagger. 

“Mom? Dad?” you asked. The two of them looked at you but dissolved into dust right after. 

“Wait!” you said. You ran after them but a hand grabbed you. You turned around and saw that it was Xehanort. 

“Dad? What’s happening?” you asked. 

“Come, little one. Time for you to be my new vessel,” he said. 

“NO!” 

~~~~

Sora had your head in his lap while you whimpered and groaned in pain. He tried stoking your hair but that only seemed to make it worse. 

“Is there anything we can do?” he asked. 

“We’ve tried everything. I think it’s best that we wait it out,” Donald said. 

“Hey, her dagger stopped glowin’,” Goofy said. Sora saw that your dagger stopped glowing and that you were becoming more relaxed. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked. 

“S-Sora?” you asked as you looked at him.

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?” 

“I-I think so.” You sat up slowly, still holding your head. 

“Hey, you’re eye is different,” Jiminy said. 

“Huh?” you asked. 

“Yeah. It’s yellow,” Goofy said. 

“W-which one?” 

“The left one,” Sora said. You grabbed your dagger and held the blade in front of you and saw that your left eye was in fact yellow. 

“D-don’t worry about it. I-I’m sure it’s nothing,” you said as you put the dagger away. 

“Okay, if you say so. Here, let me help you up,” Sora said. You took Sora’s hand and he helped you stand up. Since you still felt a little weak from the headache, Sora kept a protective arm around your waist. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

“Y-yeah. Let’s go,” you said. You and Sora held up the last card at the Tenth Floor world entrance, and entered to the next world.

to be continued...